Sugar, Spice, and No One Plays Nice
by hatchlingpendragon
Summary: A tale of courting, confusion, conflict, corniness, and...tea parties? Marshall Lee x Prince Gumball x Fionna
1. Secrets

**Author's Note: **_The previous 'Sugar, Spice and' stories are preludes to this, which I plan will become a true chapter story. Updates are planned to be posted every two days._  
_Reviews are appreciated. Keep calm and carry coffee!_

* * *

Fionna was having a very strange week. Well, stranger than the usual everyday strangeness, anyway.

Let's see, Cake was fluffing about her boyfriend, bleah, that was normal.

The Ice Queen was still coming up with lame prince-kidnapping plots, gross, that was normal too.

Her missions across the land of Aaa had been awesome and kick-butt, that was also normal, haHA!

Gumball and Marshall were snapping at each other again, and that _should _have been normal.

But for some reason it didn't _feel_ normal, and she couldn't figure out _why.  
_  
She didn't like trying to figure out something that felt 'complicated'. That was normal for her, but in this case the whole thing had been just like a woolly-weed itch that wouldn't go away.

The strangeness probably started around the time with that one mission Gumball had given her.

He'd been banging (politely) on the door of Tree Fort, and when she let him in he looked out of breath.

"Oh, hey, Gumball! Uh...dude, you okay?" she asked.

He held up a finger, sucking in breath, "Has-has Marshall Lee been-_whew_-been by here...?"

When she told him she hadn't seen the vampire he slumped, "Oh, thank goodness..."

He then straightened up and straightened out his crown, his cheeks turning a darker pink, and she laughed a bit to herself, "You ran all the way here from your castle, didn't ya?"

"Well, it was an important matter, Fionna, though I'm sure I nearly exploded my own 'heart-guts' in doing so."

He bemusedly examined his own chest, then frowned, "I wish I could put that incorrigible hue-sucker under some sort of capital punishment, pardon my bluntness."

"What'd the guy do this time?" Fionna asked, and blinked when the prince started to sway, "Um, wanna sit down?"

"Thank you." he said weakly, and did, and Fionna realized he had probably waited for her to offer. Pfft.

"Right, so, what'd the guy do?"

"_That uncivilized son-of-a-demon_ stole_ the—_" he stopped himself and coughed, "Uh, excuse me." He took a deep breath, "The..._character _in question stole...something important to me, and it's imperative that I recover the thing that he stole."

"Sounds like a mission!" she grinned, and it wasn't gonna be a lame mission! "What'd he steal?!"

He stared at her and then looked like he was getting a headache, muttering something she couldn't make out.

"The thing that he stole was a...file, I suppose you'd say. But it has _extremely_ sensitive information that I can't afford to be leaked beyond its source, and I'm afraid, Fionna, that not even you can look at it."

"So it's like a secret." she said.

He sighed, "Yes, Fionna, that's exactly what it is, and he has it."

She grinned, "I'm good with secrets and junk, Gumball, and finding Marshall. I can catch him, beat him up, and get it back for ya. I promise I won't look." Gumball shook his head, "I'm afraid to take the risk, Fionna."

She blinked, and then pouted, frowning, "You don't come all this way like you did to worry about stuff like that and then expect _me_ not to! Now I'm gonna be fluffing about this for the rest of the day if you don't let me!"

When he frowned, doing that 'I'm-thinking-so-hard-I-gotta-cover-my-mouth-and-l ook-serious' thing he did, she moved forward, "You know I'm the only one we both know who can actually _catch_ Marshall. Your 'Candy Kingdom Task Force' just makes him laugh." When he made a hurt face she waved her arms, "Well it does! He laughs at me too, but at least I can punch him right in his guts for it, yeah? Come ooon! Ple-e-ease?"

He stared at her for a minute, before he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, "The idiot planned for this. Alright, you may help me in recovering the file, but certain precautions have to be made. One, I come with you."

She nodded, hopping from foot to foot, ready to just _go_ already. "Yeah, yeah, sure!"

"Two, if we get there and you see papers or things like that, anything that looks readable or interesting, don't look at it. In fact, back away and shut your eyes, yes, I think that'd be safe."

That made her frown, "What if the dude attacks me when my eyes are closed?"

"I'll be there, so you'll be alright."

"Oh, um, right..."

"And three, and most important, if he starts to say, or 'sing', glob forbid, _anything _about that file, you shut your ears and sing, or run away as fast as you can, singing. Like, really fast."

She crossed her arms, feeling a lot less psyched now.

"Uh, dude, I'm not trying to argue, but how are any of those rules actually gonna let me catch Marshall?"

"I'll be there, remember?"

She tried to think of this as a good thing, but really didn't feel too good about it. "Well, I can't run away, Gumball, that'd just make him laugh even more. And, no hard feelings when I say this, I can't see you getting anything out of him."

He suddenly gave a weird, very 'un-Gumball' smile that made her blink, before he shook his head quickly.

"Um-_ahem_-right, well... Hmm, maybe we can do something similar..."

* * *

After leaving Cake a message back at Tree Fort, she headed towards Marshall's cave, Prince Gumball on her back.  
It was awkward, him being taller, but he was pretty light, so it wasn't too bad.  
He wasn't a quiet passenger, though.

"Remember, don't look at any papers."

"Uh-huh..."

"And don't listen to him."

"Yeah..."

"And don't do anything or go anywhere without me."

"I _get it, Gumball!_"

"Sorry, sorry, I know. It's just—I'm just really nervous about this, Fionna. I'm sorry if it makes me doubt you."

She sighed, flipping a lock of her hair out of her face, "I'll let ya know if it does, heh. It's alright, I know how important secrets are and stuff. I remember getting so crabbed when Cake found out one of mine."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. But it was only the one where I was cutting up the bedsheets to make shadow monsters to fight.  
I kept pinning that on the dust bunnies for, like, months."

"It doesn't sound like much of a secret anymore, Fionna, if you told me."

"Pfft, I was _six_. It was my secret, so it's okay if _I _told it.  
Mom and Dad kept the linen closet locked after Cake told 'em, that's why I was crabbed."

"Well, one mustn't ignore the importance of linens..."

"I guess. Anyway, I got back at Cake later by finding out that...well...never mind."

"Never mind what?"

"I'm good at keeping secrets, dude!"

She felt him laugh against her back, and she laughed a bit herself. Even if he was control-freaky, this was pretty fun.

"Well, I suppose that I, too, had been something of a well-meaning miscreant in the days of my youth."

"Ha-ha, I bet!"

"No, no, really! One time, get this, I gathered a meeting of some of the palace guards' children, and we led an anonymous diplomatic protest against the kitchens for an increased supply of treats for snack-time.  
We had a little anthem, some masks, banners, a written list of demands, everything!"

She chuckled, imagining a tiny, squeaky Gumball marching in the halls carrying a sign. The image was too funny.  
She snorted as she began to laugh, and the prince noticed.

"Well, sure, it's not like fighting shadow monsters, I guess, and perhaps not as 'anonymous' as my much younger self understood," he said, sounding miffed, "But, if pressed, we would've staged a tactical revolt, and I had plans for one! Nap-time, however, was our inescapable adversary..." he shook his head sadly, and she looked back to see him smile a bit.

"Ah-ha-ha, ahh, yeah... Hey, hey, we're almost there."

She felt him tense, and shook her head a bit to herself. It must've been some secret if it bothered him this much.  
Marshall Lee _would _steal it, knowing it'd bother Gumball this much. Why would Gumball write down a secret, though?  
The cave yawned open, the dark rock looking creepy against the bright colors of the sky and the forest.  
If she strained her hearing, she could already hear the chords of an electric guitar.  
She walked carefully inside, picking her familiar way through the juts of rock. Were they stalagmites? Stalactites?  
Eh, she never remembered. She jumped back when a shower of rocks crashed in front of her.

"Well, well, well, look who dropped in to see li'l ol' me!" she heard a voice laugh.


	2. Secrets, part 2

**Author's Note: **_Two chapters in one day! Marshall, why do you make things difficult? And why do I ask?  
Reviews appreciated!_

* * *

Prince Gumball gave a short yell when the rocks came down, making Fionna wince as the rock dust clouded her eyes, and she growled, wiping it off of her face and looking around for the vampire.  
She found him floating over his house, strumming that guitar, and, yep, a file cradled in the crook of his arm.  
He gave them both the sign of the horns, smirking, "Hey, guys!"

"Hello," the prince grumbled, "Excuse us for any informalities, but we are _not_ here to visit."

"Oh, sure, _you're_ not, but I bet _she _is." he grinned at her, "Aren't ya, Fionna? Don't tell me you'd piggyback His Royal Highness all the way here without stopping by for a little talk." He gestured with the file, and she now noticed it was colored pink, and she frowned, "Come on, Marshall, just give Gumball his thing back."

"Aw, you sure? We've all got so much to talk about, y'know..." he looked at them both and then shrugged, "Che, fine, whatever. Want your precious 'thing' back, Gummy Bear? Have it!"

The file fell open as Marshall dropped it, and papers scattered around the air streams of the cave.

"Whoops! Ah-hah-hah-hah!"

Fionna gaped, before a pair of pink hands slapped over her eyes.

"Ow! Dude, what the stuff?! I'm blind!"

"Can't risk this, Fionna!" he said into her ear, "_Ohh_, dear, go left, go left, _left-left-left!_"

She stumbled blindly to the side, and heard a guitar playing right where she was.  
She swung her fists at the noise, gritting her teeth, and heard the vampire laugh again.

"Oh nooo-ho-ho, what'm I gonna dooo? You both look hilarious! I'll laugh to death, hah, well, y'know, if I could die."

She felt him coming and jumped to the side, feeling him rush by.

"Ooh, watch your step, Fifi. Hey, wanna hear a story?"

The guitar strummed out a tune, "I bet you wanna hear a story. A-hem, so once upon a—"

"SHUT UP!" Gumball yelled, and Fionna winced, and then she scowled. If this went on, the prince would try to find some way to close both her eyes _and_ ears, and this whole thing was getting stupid enough already. So, doing the first thing that came to mind, she shrugged the prince off her back and threw him at the Vampire King.

"AAAHHH!"

"Ah-ha-ha-ha—AGH! Ow! What the—?!"

Gumball automatically clung to Marshall in midair, and Marshall looked like he was struggling to stay airborne, and so he was distracted by the distraction! Perfect! Fionna leaped from stala-thingy to stala-thingy, vaulting up the wall to grapple Marshall, who dropped the Candy Prince, and she got the vampire into a headlock.

"RAAAH! Gumball, get the papers!" she growled.

She saw the prince stumble up and dust himself off, before he frantically chased after the scattered file. She laughed a bit, but then grunted when she felt Marshall's face change. "Dude, not freaking fair!" she hollered, as the vampire turned into his freakishly giant bat form, his neck growing out of her stranglehold, "All's fair in flirting and fighting, girl!" the bat chuckled, and flew up, trying to slam her into a cave wall.

She swung around him before he could, grabbing him by his ears and kicking him in the face. He shrieked, smacking her away, and she rolled to the floor, frantically swatting a page away from her face before she could see it.

"Eat rock, ya, uh...ya oversized hue-sucker!" she grinned, and dashed up again, taking him by the ears and using those to steer him into the wall again, and again, and _again,_ the cave shaking with the impact of his face.

"Fion—GUH! Fionna! Owtch! QUIT IT!" he roared, shrinking again, and kicking her away. She flailed her arms as she sailed through the air, yelling, until the Vampire King caught her by her backpack, grinning even if his face looked beat-up.

"Alright, alright, I get it, ya don't like me taking Blowpop's stuff? Okay, I'll make it fair and take somethin' of yours, too!"

She struggled as she dangled from her own backpack, and was momentarily blinded again when the bottom of her hat caught over her face. "Hey!" she yelled, and felt her hair tumble down and blind her _again!_

"MARSHALL!" she hollered as he dropped her, landing on her feet and nearly tripping on her own hair, brushing it frantically out of her eyes, "You've done a lot of stupid stuff, but that is just NOT COOL!"

"Aww, what can ya do, blondie?" Marshall Lee chuckled, tugging the hat over his own head, "Ooh, lookit me, I'm so badawesome and junk I can keep a prissy prince's precious secrets! Ooh, no, no, I can guard his secret diary, I'm so badawesome! Here, watch me do my 'awesome-awesome I-kick-sauce' dance!"

She seethed as he wiggled around in midair, "I DON'T DANCE LIKE THAT!"

"Su-u-ure you do. 'I'm awesome, awesome, I kick sauce! I kick sauce just like a boss!' or stuff like that. C'mon, you know the lyrics, do it with me, or do you wanna hear that story now?"

"PLUG YOUR EARS!" Gumball yelled in the background, grasping after an elusive paper.

Marshall Lee laughed, and Fionna scowled, and she rushed forward, leaping and grabbing onto Marshall's foot.

"GAH! Hey, hey, what're you—?!" he tried to kick her off as she growled up at him, clawing her way up, using fistfuls of his clothes to pull herself up, her hair trailing down past her feet, "Get off, man, I'm not giving it back!"

"I don't want it back!" she answered, and made it face-to-face, and grinned at him.

_"So EAT it!"_

She tugged the top of her hat over his face, and promptly stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, finally shutting him up.

"HAH!" she said in his face, "I AM awesome, ya jerk!"

She held onto the vampire, who looked temporarily stunned for some reason. Her hat couldn't taste _that _bad!

"Hey, Gumball, I think I won! Did you get it all?!" she yelled out, looking around for the prince.

"Almost!" she heard him answer from around a bend in the cave, "Keep him occupied and no looking!"

"Fi-ine!" she called back, and glared at the vampire, "Got anything else to try? If not, just get back on the ground, and I _will_ put that back in your mouth if you spit it out!"

He blinked at her, and then grinned around her hat, his fangs looking silly, and she snorted, "You're a goof, y'know that?"

She looked down, "Okay, get back down now, or I _will_ find something to hit your face with."

He did not get down, like she hoped, instead, he just crossed his legs in midair, forcing her to use him as a seat if she didn't want to fall onto a bunch of stala-thingies. He made no move to spit out the hat either.  
She frowned at him, "What's your beeswax?"  
She tried to look for a way down, and started to get a bit worried when Marshall floated higher, "Hey!"

She curled her hand into a fist and showed it to the vampire, scowling, and he rolled his eyes before he landed them both on the roof, taking her hat out of his mouth, "Blegh. Geez, Fionna, when's the last time you washed your hair?"

That made her flush, "None-a your business! Recently! Yesterday! Stuff you!"

She snatched her hat back, but then dropped it, making a face, "Ew, dude, you _drool!"_

He snickered, "Not my fault."

She frowned, brushing her hair back, and saw Gumball run around and look up at them, waving the recovered pink file in his hand, "I have it, Fionna! Has he said anything? Hey, Fionna, your hair...?"

"No! And it's fine!" she called back, and glared at the vampire, "Are you _going_ to say anything?"

Marshall Lee raised his hands, shaking his head, "Nah, nah, it's cool. Y'all can take your stuff back."

"Honestly?!" Prince Gumball frowned, crossing his arms, "That was completely uncalled for!"

"Was just a joke, chief," Marshall grinned, and blinked, "But, hey, while we're all here, something awesome's going down in the woods tomorrow night. I want y'all to come. How 'bout it?"

Fionna frowned, "Dude, you just acted like a total jerk, why should we?"

"It was just a _joke,_ Fifi," Marshall laughed, and waved down at Gumball, "Come on, Gummy Bear can join, too."

He shrugged when they both glared at him, "If you both come with me to this thing, I'll shut up about the 'secret' and not bother you all anymore about it, sound cool?"

Fionna and Gumball looked at each other before the man shrugged, "Fine." Fionna huffed, "But I might need to hunt down another bunny-bear before I do. What's it gonna be?"

"That's _my _secret." Marshall winked, before getting them both back to solid ground.

"FIONNA-A-A-A!"

Fionna blinked as something large blocked out the light into the cave, and looked at her older sister's face.  
She grinned, "Hey, Cake!"

The cat panted, staring at the trio inside, before she shrunk down, brushing off her fur, tail fully fluffed.

"You—girl, note—Marshall—secret what?! Where's your _hat_, girl?!" the cat bristled, and Fionna knelt down to calm her, "No, it's okay, Cake, things are cool now. Right?" she glanced back at the boys, who nodded or shrugged.

She turned back to the feline, smiling, "And I used my hat to gag Marshall, so we might need to get a new one."

"You what?! Alright, what was goin' on here?"

"I'll explain on the way home. Wanna lift, GB?" she asked the prince, who shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, Fionna, but I need to have some words with our friend here." he said, glaring at the vampire, who strangely looked...sheepish?

"Um, okay. I'll see ya both tomorrow. Marshall, if you eat him, I'll find a way to bury you in here!" she warned, mounting Cake as she turned giant again. The cat gave a glare to both of them before stomping off, her fluffed tail swishing.

"Really, girl, _what_ was goin' on?" Cake asked again as they headed back to Tree Fort. Fionna shrugged, her blonde hair jostling with the motion, "I dunno. But the mission was successful, and I don't know anything about the secret! Hah!"

She frowned, "Still, Marshall's acted weird, I think."

"Weirder than usual, hmm?" Cake asked, sounding strangely cross.

"Ha-ha, yeah. You okay, Cake?"

"Ah, I'm fine, baby. Still, don't go leavin' funny notes like that and not expect me to get worried!"

"What? I was just gonna go do a mission involving the guys!"

"Exactly!"

"Huh?"

"Ffft, never mind it. We're havin' bacon pancakes tonight, that sound good?"

"Woo-hoo, yeah! Successful mission food!"

* * *

They both waited until the shape-changing cat disappeared over the horizon before Gumball rounded on Marshall.

"When I said we should find a way to initiate my plan, I did _not _mean _practically wave it in her face!_"

"We got a date out of it, didn't we? And when's it suddenly _your_ plan?"

"It became mine when you stole it from me!"

"Oh, lighten up, bro. One, we got a sort-of date, two, we got to see her with her hair down."

"-_grumble-_"

"I can totally tell she washed her hair recently."

"Oh, go stab yourself on a sundial."

". . . _Oh_-ho-ho, impalement _and_ burn-play? _Kinky._"

Gumball flipped through the file, ignoring the vampire.

"Heh-heh-heh. . . Uh, hey, GB, do you think the fur-ball suspects anything?"

"I know she does. But I've planned for that, too. I'm just wondering which parts we should use for tomorrow night."

Marshall Lee snorted, shutting the file closed in the prince's hands, "Let it flow for once, Gummy Bear. What we just did was totally impromptu and look what we got from it. Follow my lead."

"Forgive me, but I don't think you beating up our love interest counts as progress."

"Nah," Marshall chuckled, "She knows something's up. We both got some _physical contact _in today. I think when she thinks about today she'll remember that. Or at least me. I dunno about you."

He laughed again when Gumball blushed, and kissed the prince's cheek.

"We'll talk more about the plan tomorrow after our 'date', alright?"

The prince huffed and crossed his arms, "I don't think it's a 'date' if the third party in question isn't aware of it."

"Oh, she'll be aware of it." Marshall winked, "It's all in Marshall Lee's sub-plan of 'How To Catch A Monstor'!"

"I really wish you hadn't made that term. I'm going to need something for this migraine, and _soon_..."

"Whatever, let the evil plot com_mence!_"


	3. Prince Gumball, Theories and Thread

**Author's Note: **_Going a bit off-tandem for this chapter, but bear with me! Review please!  
_

* * *

Gumball picked uncertainly at his undershirt, frowning at the mirror.

Articles of clothing in various shades of red, pink, and like-minded hues were scattered or carefully laid out around the pink-themed room depending on their type. The jam-up at his closet was frankly embarrassing.  
It was like an organized chaos theory represented by an explosion of Pepto-Bismol and a candy store.  
Any man other than Gumball might've had his eyes glazed over and retreated to his happy place by now.

Still, let it never be said that he was a vain character. True, he dressed like a royal should, and due to the expense and importance of that manner of dress, he'd be reluctant to get anything dirty. But you don't spend three-quarters of your life inventing machines for culinary purposes, baking, hunting for ingredients, or what have you, and the other quarter experimenting and researching to _perfect_ this hobby, without coming away with a decent sense of what was practical.  
So, if he was honest, his normal attire would _not_ be practical for tonight's events.  
If he was even more honest, he wasn't entirely sure what _was._

He was keeping the crown, no question about that. The shoes he would exchange for a pair of maroon sneakers he knew he had somewhere in that closet, but beyond that he was utterly lost.

"The prince should be prepared in manner of dress and style for every occasion!" he admonished his reflection, "And this should include events like these! Why doesn't it include events like these?! Why must this be so troublesome?!"

He tugged at the sides of his face, staring at himself, "What kind of person am I to suffer _thi—is?!"_

He paused, and then straightened up, and glanced at one of the windows.

He stared at it, not really looking through it.

It was still daytime, yet...

He quickly shut all the windows and locked them, jumping up to draw the drapes closed. He stuck his head out of his bedchamber to address the guards, "I find myself brewing on a matter that demands all of my mental resources, so do not disturb me unless it depends on the safety of the Kingdom. And think _very carefully before you decide what the Kingdom's safety depends on_, and let no one in.  
Especially the Vampire King.  
Or Fionna.  
. . . No, not even if they both show up at once, just don't let them in!"

He shut the door, rubbing his face.  
It was enough that he had to preserve whatever dignity he had left in Marshall's eyes, he didn't want _Fionna_ to see him in this quandary either. He eyed the monstrous spread of candy-colored fabrics before him, and 'hmm'ed.

He could not afford to go 'Bohemian' like the vampire. One, he wouldn't be able to pull it off, and two, it would only look like he was trying to blend in. Which he was, but the objective was that he showed his own style without looking completely out of place or like a magical copycat. He looked at himself in the mirror again. He was probably overreacting to this, but this was a theoretical 'first date' with Fionna (not counting the Ice Queen fiasco), and in this case presentation was critical.

And yes, he was perfectly aware that his mental stance on this situation was bordering on neurotic, and that it probably didn't require this much beating on his normally rather competent brain.  
But he did have evidence to back his 'presentation' theory. Image really _did_ influence factors, and not necessarily the kind that meant that you always had to look good in order to make an impression.  
Though that was the type that he was aiming for. To make an impression by looking good. Still, the theory!

Marshall Lee was a good example to provide for his theory. Practically, in Fionna's words, an 'artsy hobo', who wore the same outfit, the same style, pretty much every. Single. Snacking. Day. Even in formal occasions. It was probably either out of eccentricity, habit, or a comfortable apathy that developed over the man's centuries. The guy would even wear a sunhat and gloves that he wouldn't bother matching at all. And the thing is, on Marshall, it worked.

It was his 'signature', his unique signature to the eye, something that people would remember him by, something that drew attention simply because of its plainness. Any faux pas in his manner of dress was excused by his personality.  
Sort of like geniuses who had their quirks, but were forgiven for them because of their talent and their _significance.  
_Their quirks were part of their signature._  
_

For Marshall Lee, that would work. If he wanted to draw any fresh attention, he'd do something random as always.  
Gumball would have to try a different approach for 'attention'. Specifically Fionna's attention. Or Marshall's.  
It'd be a nice side-bonus if he could surprise Marshall as well.  
Pink, or colors within that chroma-range, he had to keep that, as it was part of his signature.  
Now, he understood the saying that 'looks weren't everything', and he appreciated that.  
But there were certainly times when looks _counted_.  
Animals knew this. Birds had plumage, insects had their color, animals had manes, horns, pelts, it was all there...

Focus, Gumball.

Fionna was also a good example for the theory. She had nice...curves, she had nice curves, there, he thought it.  
But she also dressed practically, according to her normal 'signature'. Blue skorts, lighter blue sweater, backpack, and that cute hat to keep her hair out of the way of her adventuring. Okay, maybe the stockings weren't so practical, he didn't know why she decided to wear them, but they were also cute. He appreciated the cuteness. He appreciated Fionna's cuteness.

. . . _Ahem._

Anyway, suddenly, one day there was The Dress. It was when they were preparing decorations for the Biennial Gumball Ball, and he'd asked her to come with him to it 'as pals'. . . Oh, for the love of fluff, he _was _a dumbskull.  
Anyway, shortly thereafter he'd been attacked and stuck to the ceiling of his own bedroom as a sort of Prince-sicle while the Ice Queen had apparently charmed Fionna _in his place andhadn't_that_beenanembarrassmentandahalfandgaaah..._  
Still, the Ice Queen, looking like him, had brought Fionna into his bedroom and he was inadvertently and happily introduced to The Dress. Now, he, being a prince and therefore an attendee of many higher-class social events, had seen his fair share of dresses. And he, being a prince and therefore a big bleeding target of many 'mentally disorganized' characters, had seen not quite yet his fair share of Fionna. But, and this was crucial, he had never seen his fair share of a dress _and _Fionna.

It was a nice dress, a very charming dress, in fact. One that he would quite easily approve of. But in the circumstance, even through the cold, frankly gross, distorting ice, that familiar type of dress, and the familiar face of Fionna, had become something completely surprising and in its way spectacular. Waaay spectacular.

Of course, the poor thing had to rip the dress to fight properly, yet he somehow couldn't find a way to be too disappointed in the altercation of the fabric. It was a bit charming to find she still wore her clothes underneath.

Still, the image of The Dress had been deeply impressed into his gummy pink brain, and even after the amiable rejection of his advances (couldn't he have really found a better time to express his interest? Dumbskull!), the matter of The Dress had contributed to the base of his theory. He had been impressed by her, both as a charming Ball attendee, and the battle-tattered adventurer, and that let him notice the everyday Fionna he had probably taken for granted.  
She had impressed him with her sudden change in signature.  
So, now he needed to impress her back in the same manner.  
Which brought him back to the current dilemma, what on Aaa was he supposed to wear to accomplish this?!  
Nothing worked! All he had was the sneakers that were probably in his closet, and while many of his clothes showed different parts of what he was looking for, _none _of them had everyth—!

He stopped, and slowly turned to witness his domain of earnest disorganization. Already his eyes tracked the pieces of items, and slowly he grinned. Rummaging around his old cabinet, he found a pair of scissors, a needle, and various spools of pink-themed thread, that grin turning into a full-out chuckle as he turned back to the mess.  
His forté may have been in the culinary arts, but he was nothing if not diverse in his skill sets.  
. . . He paused in mid-chuckle as he considered himself. He shrugged. Alright, he has become slightly neurotic.

He grinned again. But what was a little neurosis for the sake of love?

* * *

Outside, the guards shifted nervously, a bit concerned about the maniacal laughter and babbles of 'String Theory' that came from their Prince's door. They glanced at each other and silently agreed that whatever the Kingdom's safety would be threatened by was not any worse than what was in _this_ castle.


	4. Seduction According to Marshall Lee

In the land of Aaa, if there was to be one thing that united its many residents no matter their shape, specie, or food choice, it was an awesome who-the-hack-cares-who-planned-this no-guest-list-required party. There were all kinds of parties, special, personal ones, kingdom ones, riotous dances, feasts, birthdays, holidays, and for every one there was always the music.

Marshall Lee loved parties. So many people to freak out, so many waiting for him to make 'em dance. He remembered raising some undead for the Duke of Nuts' kid's party. It'd been fun to see how Fionna had freaked out. She was so easy to freak out before she decided he wasn't really 'evil'. Sure, people were a thrill to scare, and maybe he indulged in a bit more than the usual red, but it was a sort of nice feeling for her to think of him as something he wasn't.  
Well, she did beat him up once for 'messing with her head', he kinda deserved that. Still, dang, that girl's punches _hurt!_  
Anyway, party time, a party specifically for the music. He couldn't wait to see those two's faces.  
He floated above the crowd, checking out the stage, at the people already dancing to the bass, and found one of them at the edge, smiling a bit at that familiar crown on the top of His Pinkness. But, oh, hey, there was the li'l lady right there.  
Hmm... He glanced between the two and shrugged.

Eenie.

Meenie.

Minie.

Mo!

* * *

Gumball felt...well, he didn't precisely know how to describe this phenomena. He likened it to the time when he was younger and, for the sake of experimentation, not vice, had drank an entire pint's worth of Sol-Soda. It was like a warm wash of fizzing that rose through his very core, flooding him with energy.  
The side-effects were cheeriness, the feeling of lightness in body and head, everything would take on a faint, bright, blurry quality, and the drinker's face would bear an almost painful smile. And he hadn't touched one drop of Sol-Soda this evening.

He grinned at the memory that happened not five seconds ago. He was able to catch sight of Fionna towards the other end of the field, she had stopped when he waved, had looked him up and down—_twice!_—and then she—well, she had given him two thumbs up. It was a small gesture, but it showed that _she had noticed!_  
He had never felt so ecstatic since that time he experimented making a new vapor form of Sol-Soda composites! This smile really did hurt!

"Dude, if your beam were any brighter I'd probably be frying." a voice said from above, and he grinned up at the vampire, "Good evening to you, too, my charmingly irritating compatriote!"

Marshall Lee paused as he came level with the prince, and looked him up and down, twice.  
A laugh pulled at the corner of his mouth, exposing a fang.  
He chuckled, bending over, quietly shaking and saying something Gumball couldn't make out.

"What was that?"

"_F-Frankenstein's M-Monstor...! Ohh, my guts..._"

Gumball's smile diminished slightly, but didn't disappear.  
Marshall Lee's pain, while at his expense, was actually amusing.

"While I don't quite understand your reference, I suppose it was intended to insult. I wouldn't think it was _that_ bad."

He traced one seam, frowning critically. The vampire mildly twisted in the air in his stifled throes of mirth.

"_Gah-heh_, ahh-ha-ha, oh, no, no, it's just, _ha_, surprising, is fine, man, whew..."

The vampire straightened up, coughing, "It's alright, just, I see that, then I think of, well, what I thought of, and the imagery just put stitches in my gut. Hah. Stitches. Get it?"

"Yes, yes, you're a veritable comedian. I will admit to a momentary lapse in composure and restraint given this creation," Gumball sniffed, grin fading for a moment, "Though I do believe that the end result from it was all the more ideal."

"Is that 'result' right there what got you grinning like a goof?"

The result in question was something certainly unique. He had dark purple jeans and maroon sneakers. But the shirt he wore was basically a sort of hoodie, purposefully loose at the edges. It had a rough pattern of color, and an easy flowing of shade, yet it contained all colors in the spectrum of the Candy Prince's wardrobe, from cool purples to rich mauves and maroons to vibrant pinks and reds, crossed and struck through with a myriad web of like-colored thread.  
While clearly looking patched-together, somehow it looked alright.  
Marshall Lee glanced down and noticed little pink bandages on the Prince's fingers, and grinned to himself.

Ah, that painful smile returned, "No. Fionna saw it. She liked it. She gave me two thumbs up for it. _She noticed!_"

Marshall Lee stared at him, and then grinned again, ". . . You're such a chick."

Gumball briefly set aside his excitement to regard the vampire. He blinked, and suddenly smiled coolly, almost smug, "I think you know me well enough by now," he leaned in a bit, "To know you can't bear _any _weight with that accusation, hmm?"

Perhaps it was the way Gumball had phrased that last part of the sentence, but Marshall Lee was glad his blood-flow wasn't strong, or he'd be a flushed fang-face.  
He shrugged, "Pfft, it's got something to it, I'll give you that."

Gumball's smile turned into a full-out smirk that dug at the corner of his mouth as his eyes scanned over Marshall Lee's face. The smirk tugged knowingly, but the Prince, with his invaluable foresight, didn't say anything.

He settled back into his regular, benign smile, looking around the crowded clearing, more importantly eyeing the stage set up at one end, "So, what precisely _is_ this gathering centered around? You hadn't told me."

"Oh, yeah." Marshall Lee regained his composure, grinning as he floated on his back, "This is somethin' I don't think you'd know, it's a bit of a music festival. Basically, a Karaoke Party."

Gumball frowned, "Carry what?"

"Nah, nah, _Karaoke. _That's the word for what everyone's gonna do. It was something done before the Mushroom War. It's where, well, songs and stuff are played without their original singers, and anyone can sing instead of 'em. I got Beemo to help out, it's got all of the jams from before the War, plus it makes a killer DJ, so this's gonna be pretty sick!" he grinned.

Gumball frowned, "Anyone? Even the Lumpy Space Prince?"

"Well, yeah, the guy might not be too bad though," Marshall looked around thoughtfully, "Long's we get him to stick to country stuff."

". . . Fionna let you take Beemo?"

"We-ell, she wasn't there to say no..."

". . . _You broke into her house and stole Beemo?!_"

"The little dude-thing was cool with it! And I didn't 'break-in', I'm not low enough to do that stuff. The window was already open."

"Marshall, I swear..."

"Nah, you're too sweet for that."

Marshall Lee cut Gumball off before he could protest again, slinging an arm around his shoulders, the pieces of fabric felt different from each other and made an interesting texture. He winked, before he spoke quietly, "You're on the right track here, Gummy Bear. Stick with this, it's all part of the plan."

"How is singing part of the plan?" the Prince grumbled, and Marshall Lee chuckled and leaned in to whisper.

"Sometimes a way to a heart is through the _ears..." _he purred.

Marshall Lee's snaky tongue flicked out briefly, almost brushing the Prince's own ear as the vampire grinned at him, "_Get me?_"

Gumball would've replied, but his face had rapidly turned the color of a ripe cherry.

Marshall Lee laughed again, "Careful, GB, or I might wanna eat ya before the night's up."

Prince Gumball abruptly shoved off the arm and stomped back through the crowd to find Fionna.

Marshall Lee chuckled at his retreating back, before floating up to make his way to the stage.

Show time!

* * *

Marshall Lee had the mic set up, and played a riff on his guitar that caught the crowd and shut them up, waiting for something to happen.

He grinned.

It was rare that he got an official spotlight, and he planned to play it like his Axe.

"Ladies, germs, gals, and dudes! Welcome to the first official Aaa's Karaoke! Now, I know y'all are thinking this's just gonna be me or some other awesome dude playing some tunes for ya, right? Nah. I'll sing later on. The thing is, you all are gonna get to sing, using our little assistant Beemo here." he gestured to the little robot, who waved shyly from his position near the amps.

He heard Fionna yell something, but ignored her, waving at her and laughing.

"Pick a song, any song, and sing it. But you take turns, alright?" he grinned even wider.

"And to make it interesting, we'll first have an official Karaoke Turn Fight!"

He could practically hear GB's facepalm, and laughed to himself as the crowd began to stir.

This night was gonna be awesome!


	5. A Boss Approaches

Marshall Lee drifted over the crowd, all of the party-goers distracted enough for him to think a bit.

Right now they were listening to a pretty good version of 'Am I Blue?' by the Peppermint Maid, her normally scratchy voice suddenly doing surprising well for the song. She also seemed to do suspiciously well in the Karaoke Turn Fight. Who knew. Beemo played a little 'piano' it'd morphed out from somewhere on its tummy, somehow having managed to get a pair of shades.

Marshall hadn't sung yet, the night was still young and Fionna was still interested in knocking the fangs out of him.

He scanned the crowd, and grinned when he saw that Gummy Bear had managed to catch up with the little hero.

That's right, GB, calm her down. Or, probably sympathize with her over the vampire's jerkiness. Whichever.

Oh, hey, the singer was changing now... Lord Monochromicorn?

He frowned, waiting, and nearly burst his guts laughing when the black-and-gray horse did a sort of River Stomp thing while Beemo played on a violin it got from somewhere. Marshall wasn't too much into Gaelic stuff, but this was pretty fun.

The dude was pretty cool for a horse, though he did have a habit of turning stuff to look like it came from film noir.

Maybe they should have him do that for another party?

Pfft, now the guy was dancing with the fur-ball.

He shrugged.

Now, what in his mind thought this party could be a step in 'Seducing Fionna 101' or 'How to Catch a Monstor'?

Simple, music.

He was over a thousand years old, he didn't go through all that without experimenting.

Ballads, sonnets, instruments, rhythm, pitch...

Drums, pianos, jazz, rock, metal, tribal, things to calm the brain or set the heart racing...

Souls, human or no, reacted to music.

Instrumentals set the mood for them to feel.

Lyrics gave something for people to interpret or decipher.

Kinda like a secret code or a hidden message.

And he planned to give Fionna one.

And it would work, really, there was a science to music, in the setting, delivery, and intent.

Take love ballads for instance. Knocking on your girl's house in the middle of the night, for starters, showed you were taking time and sleep to give it to her. Plus, at the time they'd be too tired to really think straight and just wait for you to finish your beeswax and go away. (Except for that one chick threw her Venus flytrap at him, but that's another story.)  
Then, you set the mood with something sweet, or sexy, depending on what you were trying to tell her.  
Wanted her to go out with you the next day? Invite you inside for the night? To do that, you had to ask right.  
Music did the asking.

But he wasn't gonna do something that simple for Fionna.  
He wanted more than some little date or one-night over.

He wanted to introduce The Idea to her, a _secret _secret message that would worm into her brain and stick in the back of it like those little tunes no one could get out of their head. He wanted to make her notice.  
Like Gumball with his cool stitch-y sweater-thing. He wanted her to notice something.

Nothing too obvious now, or it'd seem too generic, nothing too forward, or it'd just be creepy.

Let her see/hear something out of the edge of her audial vision.

Introduce The Idea and see what she does.

And if it doesn't work first time around, that's okay, Marshall's patient.  
He has all sorts of songs to sing, and all sorts of methods of delivery.

Speaking of which...

"Okay, okay, okay," he says, landing down and taking the mic after letting the Ghost Prince finish his song, one that was a bit of some old romance-tragedy downer but still okay.

"Alright, everybody." he calls out, Axe-Guitar slung on one shoulder.  
"Good tunes, good crowd, but whaddaya say we kick it up a little, huh?"

He strums a bit experimentally to the cheering, then pauses, grinning into the stage lights.

"Y'know, all y'all being here like this makes me a bit nostalgic."

He floats lazily in front of the mic, "There was an adventure I had with some buds once, involving a Door Lord, funny deal, but we had to do some music to open one of the doors. Bit like a band, it turned out pretty cool."

He smiles, a bit more seriously, "When I thought about it, doing that sort of thing really meant a lot to me."

He straightens up, "So I wanna show y'all how awesome that was, so let's have my favorite band-buds up here!"

Fionna and Cake climbed up from one end of the stage, only to help Gumball struggle up from his. Fionna looked a little roughed up from the Karaoke Turn Fight, but looked cheerful enough.  
She glared briefly at Marshall, "I'm only letting you off 'cuz Beemo's having fun." she warned him.  
He winked at her and she huffed, settling near the mic as one of the singers/beat-boxer.

Gumball went over to Beemo and politely took off the robot's faceplate, ready to play on the keyboard contours underneath, and Cake somehow got her dulcimer back from the crowd, and it was suspiciously bashed in the corner.  
Again, probably due to the Fight which no one will mention again. Marshall, in hindsight, admits to himself that it had probably been a bad idea. But an awesome idea. Okay, it'd been pretty badawesome.

He strums out a beat, and waits for the others to pick up on it, a steady rock rhythm, and he begins to sing.

"_All of my time in the Nightosphere,  
In places all over the land out here,  
I would sometimes wonder,  
What either would really mean to me,"_

He grinned as Cake and Fionna sang in background, Fionna's voice almost sweet enough to make his fangs itch.

"_With some crazy buds and my psycho mom,  
I don't really have the time to think of anything at all,  
But sometimes I think about  
What all this will come to be."_

Chorus, him and Fionna, Cake and Gumball pick up the background.

"_I won't mind too much all of the big stuff  
That'll linger in my brains when I start thinkin'  
Cuz for now this party-time is enough,  
Cuz who has the time to let anythin' sink in?"_

Fionna started singing, but to his surprise her voice sounded computer-y, Cake rocking in with her.

"_I understa-a-and the stuff about bra-a-ains_

_[Like a zombie~!]_

_How thoughts and their junk will spill in through like a dra-a-ain_

_[Zombie knows plumbing!]_

_Baby,_

_[What?]_

_Some filteri-i-ing's okay!_

_[Uh-huh!]_

_But sometime's ya gotta view_  
_What those thoughts wanna say,_  
_Cuz thoughts and stuff_  
_Like that must have a reason to-o-o sta-ay._

_[Gimme some sicker lines, girl!]_

_Brains, bra-a-ains, I know the stuff about brains,_

_[Zombie girl!]_

_Brains, bra-a-ains, I know, no-no, no gain, no pain,_

_No gain for the li'l walnut brain,_

_[Nuts!]_

_Kno-o-ow! Oh, so-o-o nuts!"_

He chuckled.

_"I won't mind too much all of the big stuff_  
_That'll linger in my brains when I start thinkin'_  
_Cuz for now this party-time is enough,_  
_Cuz who has the time to let anythin' sink in?"_

He slows down the tune a bit, settling in between GB and Fionna, and grins at her.

"_Girl, all this talk about brain sentimentality,  
Don't get me wrong,  
It's a nice thought for, y'know, mentality,  
But part of the reality  
Is a little, well, equality,  
So, here's a thought  
That I got for you,  
Are you followin' me?_"

Beemo's tune statics a little when GB's fingers slip, just a bit, and the Prince cuts in.  
He doesn't rap too bad, a bit like a snobby Brit dude. Fionna's back to beat-boxing, looking a little confused.

"_Some thoughts are best left behind their doors and locks,  
Between the file folds,  
Put on ice,  
All frozen cold,  
Not that I'm saying I'm not playing  
But a story's told  
Better  
When it's straightforward strung out,  
Not abrupt,  
That's all I'm saying._"

Marshall Lee chuckled.

"_Don't act like I'm some kind of spoiler,  
Relax, enjoy the music we're playin' for all'a ya,  
Guy, don't think I'm such a canary,  
__Girl, please don't think I'm too rude,"_

He floated a bit more closely to Fionna, looking directly at her, grinning.  
He glanced back at Gumball, giving him a bit of a leer.

_"Oh, don't think it's so rude,  
Cuz it's not something to be so wary  
Of  
That I wanna enjoy some of the 'le confort chaude'."_

Beemo suddenly snapped with electricity, and the music nearly stuttered to a halt, before Marshall continued the chorus, backing off from a very confused Fionna. He knew she didn't really understand what he said, but the way he said it, that low singer's croon that would drive GB crazy, was now in her brain.  
He _saw_ that little sweet flush of red in her face.  
Points to the Vampire King.  
He finished them off.  
_  
"But I won't mind too much all of the big stuff_  
_That'll linger in my brains when I start thinkin'_  
_Cuz for now this party-time is enough,_  
_Cuz who has the time to let anythin' sink in?"_

The music ended and the crowd applauded the band, and Marshall chuckled again as he made to float offstage.  
He winked at Gumball, the man even more flushed, because, hey, the guy knew French.  
Which made some things even sexier.

He turned to watch Fionna go offstage with Cake.

Then the cat turned to him and gave him a pointed glare, a _knowing _glare, a glare that reminded him disturbingly like the one his mom had given him after he'd done the Very Wrong Thing. He swallowed.

He'd better hope to get back in Gummy Bear's good graces soon.

He wanted very desperately to know that part that took care of Cake.

Points to the Vampire King for this round, but an unknown boss was coming up for the next one...


	6. ANOTHER Boss Approaches

**Author's Note: **S_orry for the delay, y'all. _  
_I know it's not professional or practical to put this sort of note up, but please, pray for Boston and all those involved.  
Thank you.__  
_

* * *

Fionna watched, bemused as her sister was stomping around the living room, spitting and ranting about really anything in particular.  
"Cake, chill," she finally sighed when the cat took a breath, "Marshall was just being stupid again. Whatever it was he said was probably just something dumb, it didn't mean anything."

"Oh-ho, yes it did! Yes it _did!_" Cake protested, fur fluffed like static-electricity, "And you know it did! _You_ had a _face-flush_!"

As if on cue, Fionna blushed at the reminder, and Cake pointed accusingly.

Fionna slapped her own face a few times, shaking her head, "Oh, come on, we know the dude flirts and junk just to mess with me. So it was, uh...was a little bit weirder this time, so what?"

The cat crossed her arms, tail swishing angrily. Fionna rolled her eyes.

"The both of 'em are acting too weird, him and Bubba-boy both." Cake added, grumbling.

Fionna frowned, a bit uncertain herself, and, eager to get her friend's mind off the whole thing, told her about a catnip patch she'd found around the back of the Tree Fort. She knew she'd promised herself to not aid that particular habit of Cake's, but it'd calm the cat down, and would give them both something less-stupid to focus on.

Besides Marshall's weirdness, the night had actually been pretty fun. Though maybe still weird, but she wasn't gonna tell that to Cake.

She remembered as...

She saw Gumball near the other end of the party-crowd when he waved at her, and squinted. He wasn't wearing his usual Prince-stuff, except for the crown, well, he was wearing pink...stuff? It was hard to make it out in the dark. She blinked when she finally made it out, it was a sort of patchy jersey thing, and it looked pretty cool, other than the floofy stuff he usually wore. Not that he looked bad in the floofy stuff, but this looked, well, _cooler, _more flowy instead of floofy_.  
_Looked a bit like the stuff people wore in the Mechani Kingdom, but brighter. It suited him. She couldn't make it to him in the crowd, but gave a thumbs-up, hoping he'd see it.

She smiled a bit, it was cool to see the guy in something new.

He caught up with her after she found out that Marshall had kidnapped Beemo. Or robo-napped, whichever.  
She'd managed to vent some of her frustration on the dumbheads who tried to fight her in this stupid 'Turn Fight' made by Marshall that only got her all mad again when she thought about it.  
She spent some time protecting Gumball from the crowd, pretending she was a bodyguard guarding her celebrity, which, technically she was. She totally needed Beemo's shades to completely pull this off.  
Even if Marshall was playing war-riffs over the battle, she pretended it was her bodyguard theme song.

Normally she wouldn't hurt citizens of the Kingdoms, but they were attacking, and it was all good fun, so it was okay.

"Ya-YAH!"

Thud!

"Uh, enjoying the party, Fionna?" Gumball called over the tussle.

"Hi-yah! Huh? Oh, yeah, it's alright. Duck! RAH!"

Smack! Thump! Oof!

"Agyah-ha! Hah, close one. I'm glad, you look like you're enjoying yourself, ha ha."

"Heh, yeah! Who else wants some?!" she hollered, grinning.

Later when things were slightly calmer due to a singer having battled their way to the stage, Gumball was sticking close to her, able to talk clearly once everyone stopped yelling.

She frowned a bit as she inspected a bruise on her arm, and heard Gumball sigh.

"That idiot really does know no restraint."

"Huh?" she looked up at the vampire, and frowned even more, "Yeah, usually I'd say it's who he is, but he's really been pushing junk lately, the jerk." She glanced at the stage, "At least Beemo's having fun, I guess."

"Uh-huh. Uhm..." Gumball stepped in front of her a little bit.

She looked up at him and he smiled at her, "I would like to request a dance with you. Seeing as we really hadn't had the chance before to do so, at least not properly." They blinked as the music switched up, and Gumball flushed a little at the more rock-and-roll-ish rhythm, "I know this isn't appropriate for couple dancing, but maybe we could dance with each other as in near each other, if my presumption is correct... I mean..."

Fionna laughed, nodding, and blushing a little herself as they moved to a clearer spot in the moving bodies.

"It's cool, I don't know how couples do it like this either." she thought he flushed darker, but it was probably the shadows.

"I guess we just move or something?" she wondered, and they both looked at the other dancers.

Before they knew it, the music had changed again, sort of jazzy, and Gumball's eyes lit up as the singer, some resident of the Wildberry Kingdom, began to warm up to the first verse.

"I know this song! Fionna, do you swing dance?"

"Do I _what?"_ she blinked.

He laughed, "Never mind, follow my lead, it's fun!"_  
_  
She blinked again when he pulled her near him, and eased her through the first steps.

_"So 1, 2, 3, take my hand and come with me,_  
_because you look so fine, _  
_and I really wanna make you mine!"_

This _was_ a fun dance! Fast, beating, kicky, and wild!

_"I say you look so fine, _  
_that I really wanna make you mine!"  
_  
Didn't really have time to think about it, but when they twirled together for some of it, she thought he smelled nice.

_"Oh, 4, 5, 6, c'mon and get your kicks, _  
_now you dont need that money,_  
_when you look like that, do ya honey?"_

Kick, kick, kick, swirl, spin. Pull together, stretch apart, spin again, fast pace.

_"I could see_  
_you home with me, _  
_but you were with another man, yea!_  
_I know we _  
_ain't got much to say, _  
_before I let you get away, yea!_  
_Uh, be my girl._  
_Be my girl._  
_Are you gonna be my girl?!"_

With the faster beats without the singing they both just shook their heads and hands and arms, feeling goofy and silly.  
His hair was all mussed-up around his crown, and she laughed when his 'dome piece' looked like cotton candy.  
It went from some sort of flapper-tango to simple swinging each other's arms back and forth, flushed and laughing.  
She'd be lying if her flush wasn't just from dancing. _He'd_ asked to _dance_ with her, and she didn't have to wear a dress again or be somewhere fancy, and it was a fun dance, and he looked flowy instead of floofy, and this was awesome!

They finally settled down when another singer came up, and just sat at the sidelines for a little. He turned to her as they both watched Cake and Lord Monochromicorn do a little stompy-step thing onstage, and she looked at him.

That face-flush came back again for a bit, and he cleared his throat, "Fionna, I know this may be a little more last minute than ideal, and where we are might be a little inconvenient to ask this, but I was wondering if you, um, if you wouldn't mind, I mean, perhaps..." he was interrupted when Marshall took over the mic, and just shook his head.

She thought he had a serious face-flush, and was wondering about it before Marshall's weirdness came up.

While Gumball may have made her heart-guts flip-flop, Marshall made them _stop_.  
Her memory was a bit fuzzed, but that tone in his voice, where the stuff did _that _come from?!  
It didn't attack her eardrums so much as slide in and hum and fill her brains with short-circuit stuff!  
Was it some sort of vampire-thing that would give her heart-guts a disease?!  
And their singing, that had been almost as weird! Gumball and Marshall both, weird!

After that, she only remembered Cake taking her home, and then she thought seriously about what Marshall had done.  
The muddling of her brains, the near stopping of her heart-guts.  
She blinked. Oh. Oh no. It all made sense now. The song. The...the 'lei con-for shoo'? It was a spell!

Marshall Lee was trying to turn her into a minion again, but a _zombie_ minion!

* * *

Marshall Lee floated around Candy Kingdom, occasionally slipping around to make creepy faces at unsuspecting passerby, mentally giving himself bonus points if they were pink, but his beating-less heart wasn't really into it.  
If he could pout, but only chicks pout, not dudes, he would be.

Bubba had locked him out.

His _bro-friend _had retreated like the little pink _pansy_ he was into his workroom and locked Marshall out.  
Now, it wasn't like it'd be too hard to get in, per se. But the windows were shut and in this case really were locked, and the curtains were not completely shut but shut enough to let any interested persons aka him know he wasn't invited.

That sucked.

It's not like he revealed anything, did he?! No!  
He was just flirting like an interested person should with their future girlfriend!  
What, was GB jealous that he used that voice on Fionna?  
Hah, jealous little GB...

Bu-ut Marshall was locked out, and somehow, heck if he knew why, he felt a little bad about it.

He scowled under the shade of his hat. On top of his 'exile' he had the fur-ball to worry about, and Gumball wasn't giving him any info on how to handle the kitty. Prince-y boy should feel bad about cutting out a comrade.

Bleagh.

This sucked.

So, with no GB to interrogate, and no real direction as to 'what happens now?', he was bored.

B-O-R-E-D.

"_Bored from scaring all of these kiddies,  
Bored 'cause certain little princes are pansies,  
It's gettin' too lame to crash in this city,  
__'Cuz now you're all soured up, which is a pity,  
__It's not my fault that when she blushes she's pretty.  
. . . Er.  
Than you."_

He chuckled, and lost the tune, but just kept playing aimlessly on his guitar.

Then he paused, and grinned.

_Fionna _hadn't locked him out. Hopefully the fur-ball was off of the premises.

He wouldn't mess with the plan this time, but really, Bubba should've seen this coming.

* * *

He peered upside-down into the open window, and frowned when he saw her sitting in the middle of the floor.  
Really, the window was open. You'd think someone like her would learn by now.  
Still, the weirdness of this made him pause.  
No cat was inside, but he was slightly put off by Fionna the suddenly-weird chick.  
She was wearing white pajama shirt and pants. It looked kinda cute, actually, but she was wearing them.

Was she _humming?_

It wasn't a tune or anything, it was one droning hum that was seriously getting annoying.

He drifted upside-down until he was right behind her, staring at the furry-clothy stuff of the back of her hat.  
That hum went on, and it was actually making his teeth buzz.

"Wha-a-at are ya doin'?" he asked idly. The hum stopped, and her shoulders stiffened.

But instead of whirling around to shout at him or hit him, she. Just. Kept. Humming. Louder.  
He flinched back, rubbing his ears, "Seriously, Fifi, you gotta breathe at some point. What the glob are you _doing?"_

He moved around her to stare at her face, making faces as she shut her eyes and frowned, he not giving in to that really, really annoying hum. When he stopped contorting his handsome visage, he sighed.

"O-kay, I give up, I got nothing. What the hack is this, Fionna?"

She cracked one eye open to glare at him, "If I sit on the floor like this and hum, I'm supposed to get protection on my brains and my heart-guts, and if I do it long enough, I'll be able to fly and even more easily kick your butt."

She shut her eyes again and hummed, even louder and more drone-y. He hissed, and then calmed again.

He sneered, "You mean like this?"

He crossed his legs in midair, and began to hum like she was, but louder and screechier, and she finally snarled.

"You're disturbing my mojo stuff, you freak!" she growled, but he continued humming, nearly laughing into the hum as he grinned, pretending to be oblivious. To taunt her, he floated higher, "Oh, it's working!" he laughed, and then got a face-full of suspiciously lumpy pillow, and startled back a few feet.

The pillow dropped to the floor, and he spat out a few exotic feathers. He glared, but she was already sitting back on the floor, back to him, and humming, though a bit more quietly.

He grinned, and began to play on his guitar, but in the worst way he knew how.

Play a tune, stop at a hanging note, play it again, but wrong, suddenly switch tunes, pitch.

She hummed louder.

Then he stopped. The humming continued, but a bit uneasily.

Then he played _tinnily._

_Hmmmm-**Plink**.-mmmmmm_

_Plink._ **Hmmmmmm...**

**Plonk.** _Hmmmmmmmmmm!_

. . . Hmmmmmmm...

_Plu_-**RAAAAAHHHHHHH!**

So much for mojo, he grinned to himself, even as he was being throttled.

* * *

Gumball knocked on the door to Tree Fort, dressed down by his standards. He was a bit concerned at the yelling that seemed a bit more animated than usual.  
When he came in, he saw Fionna in what looked like white pajamas wrestling Marshall Lee to the ground, trying to smother him with his own hat and simultaneously punching him through it, while manically screaming some gibberish about mojo, brains, and zombies.

He politely cleared his throat, "Um, is this a bad time?"

She twitched, looking at him, "Gumball?!"

Marshall tugged off the hat to stare at him, craning his head back to do so, "GB?!"

They both looked shocked, embarrassed, incredulous and pleasantly surprised.

It was an interesting expression on them both that invoked an equally interesting emotion in him.

He coughed again, gathering his wits, "Ah, ahem, well, I wanted to get back to you on my proposition, Fionna. And seeing as Marshall," he looked a bit sternly at the vampire, "Is here as well, I guess this is as convenient a time as any."

The human and the vampire looked at him, waiting, as he opened his mouth.

"Fionna, would you like to—?"

And that was right about when the Ice Queen burst in through the ceiling in a hail of ice and cackling.

Fionna remembered her mojo being seriously done for at this point.


	7. The Name of the Game

**Author's Note: **_Finally up. Whew. Please review!_

* * *

Fionna yelled and scrambled back as debris and splinters and chunks of ice threatened to shish-kebab or crush her, and she heard Marshall hiss as a new flood of sunlight came in, making his skin sizzle.

"Marshall!" she screamed, struggling to get him away from the destroyed ceiling.

"Ding dong, let me in, little pig!" the Ice Queen laughed, hands glowing with her magic, "Oh, don't mind me, I just thought this dingy old place could use a little freshening up, take down a wall or two—hah!" her magic arced towards the vampire and froze him to the floor. Thankfully he was out of the sunlight.

"There! A nice little immortal _centerpiece,_ guaranteed long-lasting. Oh, I should take this to a column. You don't mind if I take a guest to give me a little peer review?"

"Keep away from him, you hag!" Fionna yelled, as the witch reached for the prince, who was backed against the door, which she'd already frozen shut. "Sorry, chubby, royalty only for the review!" the older woman told her with a sneer, and grabbed Gumball and flew back out of the hole she'd made in Fionna's ceiling.

Fionna gaped.

"She broke my house! That witch broke and iced my house!" she told Marshall, and then screamed, "She stole GB again! From my house!" she stared at Marshall, who was still stuck to the floor, and not looking too awake himself.

"Skew this!" she spat.

She ran to her room, rummaging around the furs on her bed.

She found her sword, and then worked on hacking the ice off of Marshall without hacking _him_.

"Crazy old bint," he muttered sourly, peeling ice off his clothes and skin with a wince, reclaiming his hat.  
"We gotta teach GB self-defense or something, or train him in marathon, at least he'd run away better."

"Rescue first, complain later." Fionna ordered, and worked on smashing her door open, scowling.  
With the ceiling done for now, what was a door or two?  
This wasn't good for mojo, but she figured that was gonna be out of the question for a while.

"Oh you gotta be kidding!" she groaned. The lady had iced over nearly the entire field around Tree Fort, it glittering in the sunlight, the glare of it causing the vampire to step back warily.

She smashed it experimentally, but it was too smooth, the sword only wedging in or scraping its surface.

"Where's Monochro?" she wondered aloud, and then, "Where's Cake?"

. . . That had been a stupid question.

"Gah, no time! You okay to fly us over?" she asked Marshall.

He nodded, scowling, "Some of the light reflection might sting a little, but yeah. Hold on tight, alright?"

He grasped her by her forearms, and she grasped his, and they half-flew half-slid across the ice, he flinching when his hat occasionally tilted too far. He couldn't carry her like he could at night: it was almost noon now, and the position would've more likely exposed him to the sun.

When they got over the ice patch they ran through the woods to the Ice Kingdom, Fionna panting as Marshall Lee flew on ahead, they both worried about what crazy plan the witch had this time.

* * *

". . . Alright, I'd like to think that we've been in these situations enough by now that I may speak clearly with you. The timing of your capturing of me was terribly inconvenient _and_ inappropriate. Did you really have to wreck her house?"

The wind whistled as they flew through the air, the atmosphere getting distinctly thinner and colder.

"We'll discuss reimbursements after the honeymoon, sweetie. Fiances should be quiet."

"Well I can't be expected to not speak my mind. Silence is sometimes not so golden. On that note, I'm afraid, in the interest of information, that I must tell you that I'm already spoken for."

The coldness noticeably dropped a degree or ten.

"_**You're cheating on me?!**_"

This is where Gumball is reminded of the nature of his captor and the distance between them and the ground.

"Uhh, then again, maybe silence _is_ golden, who am I to judge metaphorical currency value?"

"You'd better have a _good _explanation for me when we get home!"

Her pointy-fingered grip was tight on his shoulders, and for a moment he slightly regretted dressing down. Even if his regular clothing wasn't any warmer, at least the puffed sleeves offered padding from this lady's vice-like grasp.

At least this factors in with the plan, he thought to himself.

He just hoped the others knew that, as well.

* * *

Marshall flew on, keeping his eyes on the big, blobby blue dot up ahead when he could, that little pink dot underneath it.

Why wasn't the little pink dot squirming, trying to get away, maybe DO SOMETHING?

Oh, right, gravity issues.

Bites to be him.

Regardless, Ice Witch was making off with _his _Gumball, and Marshall Lee doesn't share too well.

And no one would mistake Seducing Fionna 101 as sharing, either.

'Cuz wasn't she his, too?

Speaking of which, he better speed up and fix things before she gets there.

If he manages to save the day, woohoo, perfect timing to tell her whatever Gummy Bear was gonna tell her.

And he was pretty sure he knew what GB was gonna tell her.

So, hurry-fly on.

The sooner they save the day the sooner the hero gets kissed.

Among other things.

He chuckled, as the mountain that made up the Ice Kingdom came into view.

* * *

Fionna panted, running, brambles and stuff tearing at the edges of her clothes, and feeling ticked off.

Of course stuff had to happen when she was trying to do mojo-y stuff!

She'd have to start all over after this!

"Stupid vampires with their stupid zombie-minion junk, stupid snow-witches, stupid geography, stupid timing!" she grumbled, using her sword as a machete. She practically threw herself at the mountain when she got to it, and clawed her way up, breath puffing into mist as she glared at the top fit to death-laser it with her mental and physical eyes.

Maybe mojo-mastering would give her death-laser vision too. That'd be cool.

She hit the rock with a fist when she saw Marshall fly up ahead of her, already floating into the Fortress. Cheater!

* * *

Marshall flew in, grinning as he surveyed the throne room.

"Alrighty, who's ready to—AAGH!" he cringed as a cage came down around him, and then several ton-weighted blocks of ice were slammed on top of that, nearly crushing the cage into the ground.

"Hahahahaha—wait, what?" the Ice Queen glared at him, "It's just you?! That was meant for her!"

She flew back down to ground and stamped her foot, "Honestly, no one gets anything right!"

She shook her head, sighing, and glared back at the throne, where GB was tied up and gagged.

Kinky, Marshall thought.

"Looks like your little tramp is still running free, darling." she growled angrily.

Marshall raised an eyebrow at GB, "_Your _little tramp?" he asked, already making himself comfortable.

"Yes, would you believe it?!" she whirled back to face him, her expression aghast, "This two-timing jerk was dating her behind my back! Her! The tomboy! I mean, I'm willing to make a relationship work, but who should take _that?!"_

Marshall Lee blinked, then his eyes widened. She thought GB and _Fionna _were—!

The Ice Queen was very confused when her captive, the _wrong_ captive, no less, suddenly starting writhing around on the icy floor in what looked like a seizure, or convulsions, or were those two symptoms the same thing?

She realized he was laughing when he finally got his breath back.

"Oh-ho-ho, oh man, I really am gonna die if I'm around those two much longer..." he wheezed, and sat up, wiping mirthful tears from his eyes as he grinned at her, "Ohh, it's not little Fionna you have to worry about, Queenie." he chuckled.

She stared, for once nonplussed, "What on Aaa are you talking about? The ingrate said he was spoken for!"

"Yeah-ha-ha, about that..." Marshall leered, enjoying her confusion, _savoring _this moment...

"_Let 'em go, lady!_" they heard a young woman's voice scream.

They all turned to the entrance, where Fionna stood, sword unsheathed, hair slightly askew, face flushed, skin scraped, breath misting and heavy, shivering in the cold with those torn up 'mojo' clothes, and looking completely furious.

Marshall thought that was one of the hottest things he'd seen. It should've melted the Fortress.

"You...you-you all _completely stomped my mojo!_" she yelled, "_Do you know how hard that is to get?!_"

The Ice Queen snarled, "Don't talk to me about how hard things are to get, you chubby little floozy! You stole all the dudes and all the fans and you think you can steal my fiance too?! Forget it!"

With their battle-cries the women lunged forward in combat, ice scraping blade, fist meeting flesh, claws grazing skin, it made Marshall think of those old nature channels he'd sometimes get to watch.

He was a little bit glad that he was in the cage, not that he was freaking out or anything.

He jumped a bit when the Ice Queen was thrown against said cage, "Hey, hey, watch the innocent bystander!"

"Innocent. My. Freaking. Hat!" Fionna hollered, bashing at the Queen with one of her own ice stala-thingies.

"Quit it you little vermin!" the Ice Queen screeched, causing a blast to throw Fionna against the wall and flying up to get out of range, starting to summon what looked like a mini snowstorm.

Fionna stumbled to her feet and gaped at the ceiling, and then ran to Marshall, climbing up to shove those ice blocks off of the cage, and he hunkered in as the heavy things slammed the ground around him.

How was she so freaking strong?!

"Need back-up, Marshall!" she called, when the blocks were clear enough for him to break the cage.

"No problemo." he said, and grinned, disappearing.

Fionna blinked, but nodded, and ran over to the Prince, who was struggling in his bonds, and cut him free.

They crouched together behind the throne, as the wind began to whip up around them, Fionna gritting her teeth as a few fine slivers of windblown ice sliced the skin exposed through the tears of her clothes and some of her face.

She blinked when Gumball said something, the wind too loud to hear him, but he huddled close to her and made her face him, so that whatever ice blew by would mostly only graze either of them.

"You can never let us be happy can you?!" the Ice Queen called over the roar of the wind, "I would've invited you to the wedding! Hack, I would've thrown the bouquet at you with something heavy in it to make sure I wouldn't miss!"

The wind whipped around the room, cold and sharp and nearly taking the breath out of their lungs.

"I would've even made you a _bridesmaid **without** making you wear a stupid dress!_ So...!"

The wind was taking on a howling shriek that climbed higher and higher in pitch.

"_**So w**_**_hy can't you let me be happy?!_**"

They cringed as her voice seemed to thunder, a drawn out wail of frustration.

"'Cause you're looking in the wrong places, old bag!" another voice called out, and the wind paused.

She looked around, scowling.

"Look up _here,_ ya bint!"

The Ice Queen looked up.

"Huh?"

The vampire grinned, his face twisted and fangs exposed, his axe guitar jaunted over his shoulder.

"Y'know, this thing's good for music and all, but sometimes it simply makes a pretty good _party_ _crasher_."

The stala-thingies above him had significantly chipped cracks, what looked like strategic wedges, and as the older woman stared, he casually reached out with a foot and nudged one.

With a crash resounding like many expensive chandeliers, the Ice Queen's ceiling came down on her.

When the clouds of snow and ice dust settled, Marshall called around.

"You guys okay?!"

"We're fi-ine!" Fionna called back, being slightly shouldered by Gumball, which was unusual.

Marshall Lee frowned, squinting, and saw those little lines of red...

His face contorted into a silent scream before reverting back. He took an unnecessary breath. He shrugged.

She was a tough girl, she didn't need any babying.

Besides, he had a nice piece of revenge lined up already.

He waited until those two were out of the room before he floated down to the rubble.

"Yo."

The Ice Queen looked up at him, looking only battered and dazed after being hit by an ice ceiling.

"Oh, what do you want now?" she grumbled tiredly.

He grinned, "You know what was so funny about you worrying about GB and Fifi?"

He actually stood on the ground, crouching down to her level. She only glared, white hair frazzled.

"It wasn't Fionna you had to worry about, Your Iciness." he leered.

Her glare was fading, suddenly uncertain at that _look_ on the vampire's face.

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean, the one that you had to worry about, _have _to worry about," his grin was fully demonic, "Is _me._"

He chuckled, watching it sink in, and nearly laughed out loud when her face became as pale as her hair.

"Fionna's gonna have a part in it too, but she doesn't know it yet. Tell any of 'em about what I told you, and I'll give you something far more worrying to think about. I'm the son of a demon, y'know, and we're all about blackmail."

He smiled, "Have fun letting _that_ sink in."

He floated back up and wandered off, whistling.

"Toodles!"

. . .

The Ice Queen lay idly under the pile of ice, gently gaping at nothing in particular.

A quiet, continuous keen of disbelief seemed to rise from the back of her throat.

And slowly, but surely, the color of her face went back from white, to blue, to full-out _red.  
_

* * *

Fionna stretched on the marzipan table, her cuts already treated by Dr. Ice Cream, and a full check-up given at Gumball's surprisingly determined insistence, checking for 'hypothermia' and things like that.

"Looks like you're good to go." Dr. Ice Cream told her, a calm smile on his face, "You're quite healthy."

"Thanks." she said, hopping off.

She saw Gumball and Marshall Lee standing in the hall outside of the room, and looked at them both.

They all stared at each other.

"So-o," she said after a moment silence, "What, uh, what was it you wanted to ask me, Gumball?"

"Oh," the Prince jumped, and Marshall suddenly looked a bit more tense, "Yes, right."

The bubblegum-human hybrid scratched the back of his head, "It might be a bit of an awkward timing to ask this, but I feel more driven to ask it in light of recent events, what with the destruction of your home..."

He looked at her, "Fionna?"

"Yeah?"

Gumball smiled, "I'd like to invite you to have a 'tea party', for the lack of a better term, here at the palace."

Marshall Lee and Fionna both stared.

"What?" they both asked.

"Marshall Lee and Cake are invited, too, of course," he hastened to explain, "And while I had meant for it to be this evening, I think it's best we all rest for tonight, and simply, uh, 'hang-out' the next day. I have plenty of guest rooms you and your sister can choose from until then, while some construction workers repair your house."

He smiled at her, "It's the least I can do for you after my rescue."

Fionna stared, pleasantly surprised, but confused when she noticed Marshall's blank, thousand-yard stare.

Marshall Lee's facepalm echoed forlornly in the hallway.


	8. Seduction According to Prince Gumball

**Author's note: **_Progress goes well. Here's another chapter early for you all. I know it's shorter than some, but I'd like to think the quality makes up for the quantity. Please let me know if it goes well. On that note, feedback can be food and fuel for a writer. Review please!  
_

* * *

Gumball was checking one of many lists on his desk, feeling two pinpoints bore into the back of his pink-skinned skull like the finest of drill bits.

"A _tea party_." a voice growled slowly from behind him.

"Yes, I believe you were there when I'd proposed it."

"A _tea party?!_"

"_Yes_, Marshall." Gumball sighed, scratching out an item on the list, and heard Marshall begin to stomp across the floor, pacing, which meant he really was ticked off.

"Could've gotten a kiss of gratitude, either her to me or you to her!"

_Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!_

"Didn't even have to be on the lips! Cheek, forehead, _anything!_ But was one done?! NO!"

_Stomp! Stomp! Kick a chair—thud! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!_

"Moment gone, moment passed, oop, sorry, wanted to express my gratitude through a girly little tea party like-like _pals! _Like freaking _pals!"_

_Stomp sto—_

_**screech.**__  
_  
Gumball paused his editing in interest at the vampire's sudden halt in tirade.

". . . Dude, you're putting us _both _into the pal-zone. You're putting _yourself _through it _AGAIN! Why-y-y_?!"

Gumball took a breath and sighed, putting his pen aside, and turned to patiently regard his companion, smiling.

"It's not precisely a tea party, Marshall." he assured him, "Let me explain."

"Please do, Your Majesty." the vampire muttered sourly, crossing his legs in midair.

"First," Gumball held up a finger sternly, "This is the result of what happens when one doesn't acknowledge and _commit _to the plan structure. Thanks to a few of your stunts, done without the acknowledgement of your co-conspirator aka me, miscommunication is arising and a few revisions have to be made. Fortunately, I can execute the next part of the plan without too much being altered."

Marshall raised an eyebrow, "So basically, your making this party-thing without telling me is your bit of revenge?"

"Do _I_ seem like the type for revenge to you?" Gumball asked, laughing lightly.

The eyebrow remained raised, "Let's just say that sometimes I don't think your center's as gooey-sweet as the rest of you. Keep talking."

Gumball's smile quirked, and then he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Alright. I'm going to explain to you the science of aphrodisiacs, Marshall." he said bluntly.

He held up a hand before the vampire could open his mouth, "Yes, it's an actual part of the plan, and no, it's not an excuse or an invitation for me to talk dirty to you." he smirked again, "I'll have time for that later, so just shut up and listen."

Marshall Lee gaped like a fish, and then shut his mouth, slightly dazed for words.

"First, I want to highlight to you about our methods in this seduction." Gumball stated, "You, for instance, have brought up some of the heavier points on the methods of attraction, namely narratophilia and audiophilia, if I wanted to name them appropriately." He grinned, finding that he was having the rare advantage of making the Vampire King blush.

"The science in the brain's reaction to sound and words," he detailed, "The seduction of music and voice. Those are your advantages, and regardless of timing I will admit you used them well, and I encourage further usage once we're in the more stable areas of the plan."

For both mine and Fionna's benefit, he added to himself.

_"My_ talents in seduction aren't quite as open or upfront as yours," he went on to explain, "But they work.  
Take, for instance, my recent change in appearance."  
He picked at his shirt to emphasize, "I know you've noticed these changes, so it stands to reason that Fionna has as well. A subtle change in plumage, calculated to attract and encourage attention in different ways than before the change."

Then the Prince _grinned_, reveling in the chance to channel the power of his element, "And then there is the science of _food_."

He paused for a moment, thinking of the right words, before continuing, "First off, there is no such thing as a definite aphrodisiacal chemical in particular foods. Certainly, there are chemical components in certain things like chocolate that encourage romanticism in the right circumstances, but otherwise, there's more to it than simple consumption."

He smiled, "There is preparation, composition, display, and the setting of eating certain foods that gives something the aphrodisiac element."

He tilted his head back thoughtfully, "Take chocolate, for instance. A stereotypical 'romance' food, but really the only 'romantic' effect can be positive feelings due to the flavor and the brain stimulation. There is no true aphrodisiac property in it. If there were, it couldn't be eaten only for pleasure without causing one to begin craving _another _type of pleasure soon afterwards."

He smiled as Marshall struggled to keep silent, "But, if given as a gift, or eaten in an intimate setting, it has the ability to be so much more than a simple, enjoyable confection. This can go for many other foods and settings, where the eating is more accurately a factor rather than a cause. And with this 'tea party', I hope to obtain that effect."

He laughed when Marshall's eyes widened, "No, no, not something like what _you're_ thinking!"

He smiled reassuringly, "At least not yet. No, I only hope to introduce a more mild level of intimacy. A sort of comfort-zone. And here's the thoughts behind it, taking what I just explained to you as an example..."

He leaned back, feeling happy to finally convey his theories to his friend, "First, setting. You, me, Fionna, and our mutual friends are going to eat together some time this coming evening. It will be casual, familiar, friendlily intimate, and comfortable, putting her subconsciously at ease." He laughed to himself, "Much better than some formal dinner."

He continued, linking his hands over his chest, "The tea and the food will be something different than expected, too, but I want to surprise you, so I won't tell you how. Otherwise, the foods will be simple, enjoyable, and easily consumable.  
No silly forks or place-sittings or things to worry about. It will ease the brain's focus from formality and routine, and encourage relaxation and put more emphasis on pleasurable feeding and socialization."

He smiled, "A simple science. It will graduate from that into more intimate steps later on. But I don't want to excite you too much, so for now we will just focus on the next step. I'm currently making a few lists on ideal foods for the party, and I've put in some red items and red versions of others for your enjoyment too. I actually wanted your opinion on some of them, so it's a good thing you decided to have your tantrum when you did." He raised his head, "Any questions?"

Marshall Lee was staring, his grayish skin darkened prominently around the cheekbones.

"Are you sure you're not evil?" he asked flatly.

That made Gumball laugh, and he never did answer the question.

The rest of the nighttime was spent in debate and amiable bickering.

And yes, Gumball did at times talk dirty.

Marshall Lee now didn't have too much of an objection to 'tea parties'.

* * *

**Further note: **_Yes, I do have a suspicion that Gumball (and his counterpart, Bubblegum) do have the capability to be 'evil'. It makes their sweetness that much more interesting. _


	9. Thinking of Thoughts and All Good Things

Two figures were traipsing their way through the land. It was a bright, sunny day, perfect for adventuring or just a simple wandering.  
However, the air around one of the travelers felt solid and slightly foreboding, at least to said traveler's companion.

"Uhm, Fionna?" Cake asked hesitantly. Things had been pretty awkward when she came back from a spontaneous date that evening to find out their house had a new skylight punched in, and the surrounding yard was one big patch of icy mud. They both shared a guest room at the Candy Palace, but her girlfriend had been pret-ty stony through the night, and didn't say much in the morning even after all the hero-ing they'd been doing.

Just like she wasn't saying much right now.

"Fionna?" she asked again.

"Hm?"

"We got that tea party thing goin' tonight, still, right?"

"Yup."

"With His Highness and fang-y boy?"

"Yup."

There was a slight silence, and Fionna's pout became more pronounced.

"Yeah, Cake, Monochromicorn's gonna be there too."

"I wasn't—he—I ju—I said I was _sorry,_ girl!" Cake protested, fur fully fluffed.

"We were getting our _butts_ kicked!" Fionna shouted back, just as agitatedly.

"The Ice Drama Queen broke the roof, iced the house, iced the _yard_, and called me chubby! Twice!"

Fionna paused, "And she kidnapped GB and burned and iced Marshall too and stuff."

"BUT!" she resumed, "When I needed my comrade-in-paws where _was_ she, huh?!"

She crossed her arms, glaring at her sister, "Huh?! ON a DATE decided at the last flipping MINUTE!"

She was waving her arms now, on a roll with her rant, "Over the rivers and through the woods to the Icy Queen's Fortress I go by **myself!** With you off with Monochro! With ice burns and thorns and junk! That was_ just_ _not cool,_ Cake!"

When she was done, she noticed Cake holding her fluffed tail in her paws, looking miserable with her big kitty eyes.

Fionna slowly lowered her arms, and fell back into her disgruntled pout.

"I... I'm sorry, I just... I just don't like not knowing you're there..." she muttered, more calmly.

"I know, I know, I know, and I'll make it up to ya!" Cake said, her paws wringing in her tail-fur.

"After this 'tea party' thing's done with, you, me, we have a girl night! No pretty princes, no freaky vamps, and no hawt noir film unicorns, yeah? Just you and me and Beemo, who, you know, might count as a girl, right?"

The cat looked at her sister nervously, "Right? I'm _sorry!"_

Fionna looked back at the cat, and knelt down briefly to hug her, "Thanks."

Cake paused, and then used her stretchy magic cat powers to wrap her arms around her sister many times to hug her back, immediately purring and squealing at the same time, "Woo! We gonna have a girl night!"

"With no boyfriends." Fionna reminded, smiling and laughing as her sister's whiskers tickled her face.

"No boyfriends." Cake crossed her heart while still holding onto Fionna.

Cake quickly unwrapped her arms, "Right! Now! Still up to helpin' the Colorful Blocky People over that hill there?"

"Yeah, enough mush, you remember what their problem was?" Fionna asked.

"I dunno, some jerk keeps stackin' them up in walls or somethin' overnight when they sleep, and it gets pretty awkward in the mornings. Some of 'em jus' explode when there's no room, and it takes 'em for_ever _to get their bits back together. We're gonna help 'em get unstuck and put back together, then see what we can do about that jerk."

* * *

The Ice Queen lounged on her throne, staring at the opposite wall with a frown, hands steepled over her mouth.

The pile of ice-rubble remained where it was, and in fact had an impression in it that looked like someone had sat there for a considerable amount of time.

The penguins, urged by Glorie, were staying away from the throne room, certain that instant popsicle-ization awaited those fools who would show one inch of a beak inside. But she wouldn't really notice if they did.

Some of that stupid face-flush still lurked around her cheekbones. It was completely ruining her complexion.

Even as she thought about the cause of said face-flush, it spread.

"Huh." she said, the word echoing gently around the room.

Her thoughts were not so complacent as her demeanor.

They were in fact all scrambled and looping over and over but scrambled and looping over one single thing.

It was a concentrated mess.

This was that overbit _brat's_ fault.

That _stupid_ overbit brat.

That_ stupid, __intriguing _overbit brat who implied such an _awful, terrible, **intriguing **_thing.

She glanced at her scrying glass, and the thoughts that turned around her head began to coalesce into an Idea.

The more she thought about it, the more that the scrambling little edges came together and _solidified._

It became such a defined epiphany that for a moment she just mentally stood back and observed.

The Idea crackled gently through the lobes of her brain and crystallized like the finest of frosts.

"Huh." she said again, this time with a wicked, pointy-tooth smile taking place of the face-flush.

She _liked _this Idea.

She chuckled, swinging back gently on her throne, as her concerned subjects peeked inside.

She howled in laughter, kicking her heels into the air as the sheer _deliciousness _of this Idea tickled her frozen soul.

"Ohh-ho-ho, maybe happiness _can_ be found in different places..." she remarked idly, near giddily, and the giant pile of icy rubble nearby went fluid in its form, taking on a new shape at the whim of her fantastic thoughts.

She snickered. Oh, those naughty boys had their little plans, didn't they?

Maybe it was time she introduced some plans of her _own_ into this newfound game.

"It's so _fun _being evil, isn't it, Glorie?!" she remarked to the penguin, who had waddled over to the thing she made.

Glorie quacked in agreement, but inside, the little cogwheels of his mind were gearing up for a storm.

* * *

"Just a peek!" Marshall protested, hovering just off the balcony, but Gumball shook his head, standing resolutely in front of the curtains to his room, arms crossed. The sun was set just enough for the vampire to fly about safely.

It was almost funny, how the Lord of the Undead was held off with only a stern look from the Candy Prince.

"I've told you all day and I'll tell you now, I will not let you look until all of the guests arrive." he repeated.

When Marshall still looked stubborn, Gumball raised an eyebrow and leaned forward a bit.

"You know the saying, 'All good things to those who wait'?" he asked, smiling, and watched the vampire swallow.

Marshall shook his head, quickly, and grinned back, "How about 'Live in the moment'?" he carefully inched around, "'Cuz, you know, at the moment I am re-eally curious about your little setup back there, a-a-and..."

Gumball sighed, "I understand." Marshall blinked, and Gumball shook his head, "I know, you've been waiting all day, flying around and repeatedly asking so patiently, so politely, while I worked in here all day to make sure this would be such a nice, pleasant surprise gift, so happy to make something good and unexpected that would make _others _happy, especially for you and Fionna to enjoy _together._ But no, I get it, I shouldn't keep things from you. You can look now and pretend to be surprised with Fionna when she gets here, I won't mind, and she won't know. Here, let me just get this curtain and—"

Gumball's idle hand on the edge of the curtain was struck away, and he was roughly shoved to the wall next to the opening, and he smiled benignly up at the demonic red eyes with their black scleras as they glared down at him.

"You. Are. _Evil_." the vampire snarled, teeth twisting from his mouth like railroad spikes.

"And you are adorable." he replied with a small laugh, but the laugh stopped when the vampire's hands moved from his shoulders to the sides of his face, under his jaw, gently lifting his head to expose his throat.

"Say that again, Bubba..."

The demonic visage had resolved back to the familiar face, a face which was smirking in a not-so-adorable way, as he leered down at the man he practically pinned to the wall.

Gumball stuttered incoherently, his face flushing as the setting sun's light made those feral teeth glint with so much red...

"Can't heeear you..." Marshall purred, leaning in towards the prince's ear, or maybe his neck? Who knew...

"A-all... A-all good things to those who wait..." the prince stammered out, and the vampire paused.

". . . That a promise, Gummy Bear?"

"I will keep mine if you keep yours. No peeking until the guests arrive." the prince said more firmly.

Marshall backed up to look directly at the candy-human, glancing over the reddened face and the short breaths.

". . . It is _so _lame that I can't give hickeys. . . Alright, deal." the vampire said back with a laugh, and then backed off completely, but not without a quick nip to the ear, which made the prince protest.

"So-o. . . Would _escorting _those guests ya mentioned count as cheating?" Marshall asked casually, floating back to a more respectable distance as Gumball straightened his clothes.

The prince paused, and smiled up at him, "Go fetch." he replied simply.

The vampire's face briefly became gruesomely dog-like in a snarl before he laughed.

"Woof."

Gumball watched the vampire fly off, and briefly rubbed his ear, a blush briefly renewed on his cheeks.

"It really _is_ kind of lame..." he said to himself, but with an amused smile. The guy really _was _adorable.

* * *

Fionna and Cake were wandering back towards the Palace, Cake shrunk down and comfortably nestled in Fionna's hat, and they both looked up when a darker shadow flickered over the ground.

"What's a chick like you doin' in a place like this?" Marshall asked, grinning down at them.

"Hey, Marshall." Fionna replied with a wave. He gave a peace sign, "Fionna, fur-ball."

The cat grumbled, glaring at him from under the hat.

"We're heading off to Gumball's," Fionna continued, "You too?"

"Yeah, thought I'd stop in at some point. This thing of his doesn't sound too lame, this time." the vampire remarked, and then grinned wider, "Since we ran into each other all the way out here, you girls wanna hitch a ride?"

He morphed into his giant bat form, looking more like a monster, his guitar like a collar around his neck, "Free of charge."

He held out a hand, "And a one-way wild ride."

The giant bat grinned, "C'mon, 'cause we both know the answer."

Fionna laughed a bit, remembering a similar time long ago, and grabbed onto the claws, and gave out a whoop when she was on his back, they flying through the evening towards the Candy Kingdom, the appearing stars steady and bright overhead even as the ground moved so fast below.

Marshall smiled a bit to himself, feeling the warmth and weight of that little body through his fur, a sweet contrast with the cold wind, making her laugh and shriek like a little kid again, letting himself forget for a moment the plan or the destination or that tasty promise he'd get later that evening, and just enjoying the flight with, and the feel of, this stupidly _sweet_ little person, and enjoying the possibility of all the things to come with this person.

Yeah, maybe good things did come to those who waited.

And he was sure he was getting one of those things right now.

They both looked towards the horizon, where the silhouette of Bubba's castle stood against it, that balcony warmly lit and waiting for them.

Marshall thought for a moment of he and Fionna coming back to this place for a _different_ reason, for something _else_ waiting for them through that balcony, and for a moment pretended those reasons were real right now.

. . . Yeah, some things were definitely worth the wait.


	10. The Casual Tea

**Author's Note:** _I live! I LIIIVE! First off, I want to apologize very deeply to my readers for my extended absence, things are getting a bit heavy on my end: finals, organization, etc., and I let this get by. I honestly let this idle, and I'm sorry for that, I'm sorry to you all and to this story.  
Good news, though, I finish this semester next week, so that should free me up for a more stable schedule.  
Again, sorry that this update came so late, and thank you so much for sticking with me!  
Okay, let's try this again!_

* * *

Gumball paced around the well-lit room, that good ol' neurosis coming to the forefront of his brains again, reminding him of all the wonderful variables that could turn to the negatives, like for instance:

Did this setup look alright? Was it too much? Too little? Was his clothing okay?

Would he fail their expectations? Would this not have been worth their suspense?

Would they be uncomfortable? Would they laugh?

_Did he pick the right colour scheme?!_

He clapped his hands over his face, willing himself to calm. The fudge. _Down._

"It's going to go well," he chided himself, "It will be just fine. This will be a nice, casual get-together, not some formal dinner party. Cake, Fionna, Marshall, and you, Monochro, will all be together in the same room. The personalities and natural social tendencies will be compatible and distract from any flaws in the setting, and the food has my _personal _influence and. . . _Oh my glob, Fionna and Marshall will both be here in the same place at the same time with me at oooonce!"_

Monochromicorn was by this time eyeing his royal companion with some concern, but this was largely overtaken by the general air of 'oh, there that guy goes again', followed by the general nonverbal indication of 'just get this over with, buddy'.

This required a brief retreat to the washroom, where the prince doused his face repeatedly with cold water to insure that _that _would be the assumed culprit for this accursed face-flush that darkened his natural hue.

He breathed in, and out, in, and out, and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Good_ness_, you _are _a chick." he told himself drily, and then smiled, which quickly turned to a slight frown at remembering Marshall's amused comment from that night of the Karaoke Party, and at his aura and assertion of pure _dominance _just a little while ago on that very balcony. He chuckled to himself, musing that he was probably going to tread into some dangerous territory, taking up that guy's subtle, probably unintentional challenge. But it had stung his pride a bit, after he thought about it, and he found that he wanted to prove Marshall dead _wrong_, pun definitely intended.

Besides, it was about time that the vampire had a few pages taken from his own book.

Taken, edited, and _personalized_.

Gumball then briefly wondered if it was a bit..._cruel_, using Fionna to validate his masculinity.

But then, he wanted her to see him as more than someone to be rescued, just as he wanted her to see that he saw her as more than some hero, more than some 'pal'. He wanted them _both _to see more, from every perspective.

He wiped his face off with a mauve towel, and looked with slight wistfulness at the color, but shook his head, looking at himself in the mirror again. He wouldn't need to get rid of anything to let them see what he wanted them to.

He simply had to show them what was there the entire time.

Yes, he thought to himself, tonight was going to be just fine.

He felt more than heard the fresh draft of air come in through the room outside, and left the washroom to stand next to Monochro, ready to greet his most welcome guests with a smile.

* * *

Fionna slid off quickly as Marshall landed on the balcony, turning around to watch him stretch as he morphed back. "Let's do this thing." he said, smiling, and she nodded back with a cheerful grin, as they pushed through the curtains together.

Marshall's reaction was expressed by both of his eyebrows rising into the scruffy-banged heights of his forehead.  
Likewise Fionna's jaw dropped, her goofy gaping fish expression strangely endearing as the duo took in the room.  
Cake 'oohed' appreciatively, pupils widening to take in the scene.

The room was lit appropriately for the evening, with bright, homey lanterns chasing away the corner shadows and giving the room an outdoorsy feel, despite the walls and ceiling. The ceiling light was strangely unlit, but probably so that the light, gauzy lavender drapes wouldn't catch fire. These drapes swooped gently down from the fixture to sort of subtly frame, enclose and accent the sitting area set up in the middle of the room. Big, baggy cushions and pillows and small lumpy-yet-nice-looking couches were set around a low table, and while there was still pink here and there, there were also reds, purples, and even oranges thrown into the mix.

The centerpiece itself was quite a sight.

When one looked closely at the large, low, circular table they saw that it could spin, and that its surface was subtly divided according to its contents, and its contents were essentially the makings of a tea party. But it made one strange tea party. There were different teapots, teacups, different kinds of sweets and foodstuffs, some looking elegant while others looked so humble, contrasting yet strangely compatible.  
It looked _fun_, if food could be called fun.

Marshall grinned as he already saw some red-looking things placed here and there at each section, Fionna was already circling around to eye the spread as if it were her next opponent, eyes wide and fascinated and glittery.

The whole thing was odd, exotic, almost garish, yet comfortable-looking.

"Looks like a fine party, GB." Marshall approved, sounding casual to disguise his interest, floating overhead to look down at the cups. Some of them didn't even look like cups, they looked like _dishes!_

Cake had already hopped out of Fionna's hat to snuggle up to Monochro, who was already tapping out his crazy staccato lingo into the carpet.

Gumball smiled, leaning back on one of the couches, seeming to finally relax, "Thanks, I do hope you like it."

"What _is_ all this stuff?!" Fionna asked excitedly, pointing to one pot of tea that smelled like hot oranges.

Gumball cleared his throat, straightening up, "It's all tea, essentially, in most of its forms. If you want, I could offer a more in-depth explanation, though it'll take some time and a slight history lesson."

"Hey, we're all here to get to know stuff, so enlighten us, man. I wanna know what I'm looking at here." Marshall told him, taking up what looked like a red cake-bun thing and turning it over in his hand, sniffing curiously.

"Well, for starters, a lot of this has its roots from before the Mushroom War," Gumball explained, watching with amusement as Fionna gently turned the table carousel around, watching the display pass by in her fascinated gaze. She really was raised by cats. "There was a lot of...of culture, back then, like a culture was a Kingdom, and a lot of those cultures made teas, according to their regions and traditions." He held up a hand, ticking off his fingers, "There was the Land of Europe, I think it was called, and in there, there was the French Kingdom, the British Kingdom, and then that Land of America place across their ocean. Then there was most prominently the East and the South Asia Lands, with a lot of the tea recipes coming from the Japan, Taiwan, China, and Tibet Kingdoms, but mostly the China Kingdom, or at least that's where I was able to get the most recipes from." He gestured to the table, "I couldn't get all of those cultures here, obviously. Some of the recipe ingredients were extinct or too heavily mutated, and frankly, some of it just turned out gross."

He paused when this made Marshall laugh, and smiled a bit, "Anyway, some of it's simply fascinating. The preparations involved, the meanings, the ceremonies, the effects, but honestly, I loved all the variety from such a beverage, and I wanted to share that with you all."

"That's really cool, GB." Fionna said happily, now simply moving the table back and forth, careful not to shake its load. "This stuff's awesome!"

She paused, and looked suspiciously at the saucers, "But how do you drink some of this stuff?"

Gumball laughed, getting up, "This is some of the fun part, here, let me show you. In fact, I'll serve you some, alright?"

"O-okay." Fionna said, blushing slightly, watching him fill up a saucer of hot orange tea for her, and listen to him tell her about some of the Chinese Kingdom.

Marshall noticed this, humming thoughtfully around a jaw-full of sweet red pastry that was gently fading to a tasteless gray, but didn't bother looking into it in exchange to hearing about a place he'd once known, but never really _knew_.

He later forgot about Fionna's blush, and Gumball's disturbingly thoughtful look to that blush, when the guy introduced to him a slightly spicy, citrus-y kind of _red _tea that was frankly freaking tasty. He could actually drink the whole thing!

This was an awesome night.

* * *

Cake lounged against her pillow-y boyfriend, enjoying the benefits of an herbal catnip tea prince-y boy had made just for her, feeling like a queen and having fun like a friend. She glanced at the trio, Gumball and Fionna listening as Marshall Lee told them about some guy named after the Marco Polo game. She'd never get humans. She was just fine with Monochro, but then again, she didn't get him either.

She glanced at the noir unicorn in question, playfully suspicious.

"You knowin' somethin' I'm not, hon, that why you bein' so quiet?" she asked not so playfully, catnip making her loose.

He reluctantly but firmly tapped something out.

She sniffed, "Yeah, yeah, pals before gals. But if whatever's goin' on gets her all cray-cray, I'm puttin' you out in the stable, and no amount of sweet-talkin's gonna woo this lady on that day, sugarcane."

His ears flicked idly when he nuzzled her, one hoof tapping smoothly.

Her fur fluffed a bit.

"Ooh, boy, maybe _that _talkin' might woo me." she purred.

Another bout of tapping. Her fur practically crackled like she'd taken on static electricity.

"Don't say stuff like that in front a' the _people_, ya shameless kelpie!" she giggled, swatting playfully at his nose.

Monochro chuffed at her, sipping idly from a sweet grass blend, glad that things weren't going too into a contemplative mood, and hoping to glob that whatever mess his friend was getting into wouldn't involve _his _love life.

* * *

The night wore on, and Fionna sat beside Cake, drinking one of the gentler teas in a cup she was more used to. Saucer cups were fine and all, but she kept feeling like she'd spill it. Her belly was full of hot beverage and tasty treats, her head pleasantly fuzzy as she watched a 'debate' between Monochro and Marshall, with Gumball as the translator and some sort of moderator. They were talking about foosball of all things.

Guys and their sports.

She kinda looked forward to girl time.

Speaking of which...

"Hey, Cake?" she asked.

"Hmm?" the cat mumbled, already groggy from the relaxing tea.

"I really am sorry about, y'know, blowing up at you back there." Fionna tugged at one of the ears of her hat.

"I didn't have to be that mad, it wasn't too much to _be _mad about, so I'm guessing it was kinda mean."

"Yeah, it was," Cake agreed bluntly, but she was smiling, and patted her sister on the head, "But I had some of the blame there, too. Can't help it that Monochro's hot. But you and me are gonna get some bonding time out of it, Fio, 'cause we both said our sorries now, yeah? Is all good!"

Fionna smiled, "Thanks."

Cake winked at her, and they both looked up when Marshall started shouting.

"Alright, I'll concede the back line having the most agility and point criteria, but you gotta give more credit to the strength of the middlemen!"

"Don't bite the messenger!" Gumball protested, as he'd been the one who got shouted at.

The vampire was snarling, fangs exposed, while the dark unicorn looked back at him coolly, apparently not crediting.

Marshall rounded to the couch, "Fur-ball, talk some sense into horse-face here!"

Cake sniffed, "I don't think I wanna if you're gonna spit names like that."

Marshall hissed, and she hissed back, but didn't move.

Marshall Lee glared, and then grumbled out, "_Cake_? Would you _kindly _convince your _equine _to give proper consideration to _team dynamics_?"

Fionna snickered as Cake grinned, "We-ell, I guess so, since ya asked so nicely for once. With big words, too!"

She hopped down as the Vampire King grumbled, and swished over to Monochro, "Okay, tell me the sitch, baby!" she purred.

Gumball left them, assured that Cake would be the new translator, and sat next to Fionna with a rough sigh.

"Well," he finally said, "I would never have considered our fanged friend for a sports fanatic."

"Really?" Fionna asked, watching them bicker, but it seemed friendly, "I thought he was more into music."

"Interests can diversify, Fionna." Gumball reminded her, and then looked at the table, "Oh, it seems we're running low on some of the food. I should get some more from the kitchen." He looked at her, smiling, "Could you help me, please?"

Fionna stretched, "Sure."

They both hopped up, collecting some of the dirty dishes along the way, "It's kind of cool, though." she told the prince, as they took the stuff back to the small kitchenette to set next to the sink. Thankfully he hadn't used any genuine articles for serving. All of the tea-things were made from a durable material.

"What is?" he asked.

"Some of this stuff isn't even sweet. That's pretty weird, but cool." she gestured with a cup that had held black tea.

He smiled down at her, "Some things don't need sweetness to be enjoyable."

He laughed, "Ironic isn't it? I had to learn that lesson the hard way."

"How?" she asked, and his smile turned a bit funny, "That's a story for another time." he told her.

She nodded, rinsing off some of the leftover food bits from a plate, while he took more food down from the cupboards.

She flinched a bit when his arm was suddenly reaching over her.

"Excuse me." Gumball said from behind her, taking down one tin, and then another from higher up, and Fionna was once again reminded of the guy's height. She could pick him up, sure, but she was short, and she was a girl while he was a _guy_.  
She sometimes forgot that.

But she was certainly remembering it now. She stared up at the arm over her head as it rummaged for something he almost couldn't reach. "I'm sorry, am I crowding you?" she heard him ask, and she nearly jumped when she realized if she backed away even just a little she'd bump right into him.

"N-n-no, you're fine!" she told him, still staring up at the arm, feeling her face get hot. He was in a white T-shirt with short pink sleeves.

She could see his arms. When the hack had she ever seen his arms?

. . . They were pretty okay arms.

"—na? Fionna?"

"_Ah-ba-ha_, right, yes, what?!" she asked, darting to the side so she could look at him, holding the dish in front of her.

She was probably getting leftover food stuff on her shirt, and probably looking way too hyper. Fudge.

The prince blinked at her, and then laughed a bit, "Sorry, sorry, I guess I _was_ crowding you."

He gently took the plate from her to put it in the sink, and laughed again, "Sorry, next time I'll put less sugar in the tea, hm?"

"R-right." she laughed back, fiddling with her hair.

When did seeing a dude's arms make her freak out this much?

"Do you enjoy this, Fionna?" she heard him ask, and looked up.

"Huh?"

"This 'party'. I've decided to call it a Casual Tea. I've had a lot of fun having it with you all."

He rubbed the back of his head, "I was hoping, in fact, that maybe we could try this again next week, just to relax."

Fionna paused, thinking it over, and looked at him, "It wouldn't be too much trouble to set up, would it?" she asked. He shook his head, "No, no, I was thinking of bringing variety to it each time. Maybe we can collect some ideas from the others for how the next Casual Tea goes. Do you think it's a good idea?"

Fionna frowned as she thought it over. If she remembered, they all didn't really get together like this often, outside of all the fancy parties and things. And it was a good idea, a chance to have a good time without worrying for the moment.

"Yeah, I think it is." she answered, and laughed when he grinned, "Excellent!"

He went back to stacking some of the tins, but paused, and turned back to her, a gentler smile on his face.

"I'm really happy that you like this, Fionna." he told her, and she smiled at him, a bit more at ease now that there was some breathing room.  
"Yeah, it's pretty fun." she admitted.

"Better than helping the Fluffy People?"

He laughed as that made her stammer, and he lifted his hands to calm her, "Sorry, sorry, yes, it's just that I know that most things I propose aren't so adventurous for someone like you, unless I'm kidnapped or brainwashed or some random crisis happens," he had Marshall to thank for some of that helpful insight, "So I've tried to make things be a little less, well, 'lame'."

"It's not lame! Wasn't!" Fionna protested, "You're okay, it really, really wasn't! Daisy chains are cool and stuff, badawesome! With their petals looking like blades of white ninja stars ready to chunk into their enemies and—!"

Gumball crossed his arms, his smile taking on a quirk, "Fionna?"

She paused, looked at that expression, and stopped, clenching her jaw to prevent another fishy jaw drop.

_That _was the new expression, that 'un-Gumball' expression, and this time it was staying longer.

"Right. Sugar. Shutting up." she squeaked.

He finally relaxed, his smile going back to that benign Prince-y one, "I've never really expressed my gratitude properly, have I?"

He straightened, tilting his head a bit, as she heroically did not gape stupidly at this weird, 'un-Gumball' moment.

"You rescue me, you help my Kingdom, you help _so_ much, being the hero you are." His smile widened, "Like in stories. Heroes need a proper thank-you from those they rescue, don't they? In the stories? So..." he leaned down and in, and her brain was shorting out as his face got wa-a-ay close to hers, and he laughed.

He leaned in those last few bits of air, and she felt something press against one of her cheeks, and stay, warm and soft, and then back off and press her other cheek, warm and soft and smelling like candy floss and something not so sweet. He backed off just a little.

"Thank you." he told her, and she could feel his breath on her face, smelling like tea.

This time the fish-face gaping was _mandatory_.

He backed off, smiling as if nothing had happened _at all_, and picked up the tins. "I think these have all that we need. I'll go set these up!"

She followed, her brains feeling like cotton candy and mush, her cheeks blazing, yet cool and tingling.

What the stuff just happened?

* * *

Marshall looked up from where Monochro and Cake were sketching a foosball field into the carpet, to see GB come out with more stuff for the table, followed by Fionna, who... Marshall frowned, Fionna who frankly looked like...like... He glanced back quickly to GB, who was smiling that same annoying smile he always did, but this one had that look of _triumph_. It didn't take a mathemagician to add one and one.

"Evil." he hissed quietly to himself, feeling displeased, annoyed, maybe even cheated, but also a little bit _proud._

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Fluff. Feel free to crit the fluff. I'm going to explain if some of the format comes out funny. I write these chapters firsthand into the document manager, which does have a full-screen I can use to estimate how it'll look, but in some cases it's plain hit or miss. I'm going to do my best to edit, but I'm going to do this when I have more time with which to do so. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks very much for sticking around. Again, sorry for the wait.  
__Please anticpate the schedule returning to normal! Sincerely, the hatchling._


	11. Teeth and Ambitions Are Bared

T'was a night after Casual Tea,  
And all through the land,  
Not a being was stirring,  
Except for the sole human who had heroics as a hobby and was very, very unsettled in her head.

She paced, grinding a sooty circle into the rug, all blackened and smoky courtesy of a run-in with a swarm of fireflies.

Adventuring was good, kicked butt as usual. When she was _doing_ stuff, she felt just fine, but when she _wasn't_...  
_  
Flip-flop _went her heart.

She growled, and coughed out more ashes, and sat down, thinking deeply.  
Something was wrong. She wasn't sick, she was _sure _of that, but some things in her were getting _weird.  
_Nah,_ people _were getting weird.

She'd get back to that later, for now, she had to count out the weird things. Okay.

Her heart-guts had hiccups, or stopped now and then.  
Her stomach had stutters, like from that time she made a pizza roll with that Thing she'd gotten from the back of the old pantry.  
Her face would get hot and cool and tingly, especially around her cheeks, and her voice box would short-circuit and shut down, even the miniature computer bit.

That, and her thoughts seemed stuck in a loop.

All because Gumball kissed her face.

Gumball kissed her. On the face.

He kissed her.

She got kissed by Gumball.

She. Got. Kissed. By. Gumball.

_"Blarghrfrblnngnnrr!"_ she shouted to the room, muffling herself in the bed furs.

. . . Nope. Still stuck on the kiss.

"Okay." she said aloud, as if that'd help any.

"Okay, okay, okay. Marshall Lee sort of secretly wants to turn me into a zombie minion. And Gumball..."

She pulled at a patch of fur absently, "Gumball is...helping him?"

But what would explain the kiss? And why the heck on the face?

What kind of 'thank you' was a face kiss?

. . . A pretty _good_ thank you.

"UUUUUuuuuggghh..." she groaned.

She thought about it.

". . . Unless. . ." she slowly looked up, "Unless _Gumball's _already a zombie minion, which would explain why they're _both _messing with my brains and heart-guts. Gumball tenderizes them and Marshall goes in for the kill. Oh, glob."

Her hands squished the sides of her face in panicked horror, "_Ohhh_, glob, I don't know how to cure _zombie!"_

Who did she know that could cure zombie?

She thought some more.

Her fist smacked her palm, and at the same time she heard the door open.

"_CAAAAKE!" _she yelled happily, thundering down to the front hall.

"Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake!" she repeated frantically, running into the cat in her inspired desperation.

"_What-what-what-what-what?!" _her sister squeaked, stumbling frantically, swatting-beating at the human's head.

Ash flakes and burnt bits puffed off of Fionna's clothing.

Fionna knelt to her level, looking her in the eye, "Cake, how do you cure zombie?"

Cake's nervous patting slowed down, her concern for the girl still clear, "Uhm, cut the heads off?"

"No! Not that!"

"No? The hearts then?"

"Cake, I'm _serious!"_

"Wha-at, a _dead-dead_ zombie's a cured zombie! Ugh—fine, fine, fine!" she said, raising her paws in surrender, "I'm home, by the way."

Fionna hugged her briefly, "Welcome home." She went back to her serious-face stare, "Zombies. How do ya cure 'em?"

Cake stared, tail swishing, eyes narrowed as she calmed down, absently brushing ashes off of her fur, "Is that any way to ask for Supreme Super Secret Knowledge, hon?" she sniffed, crossing her arms.

Fionna stared, then backed away a respectable distance, hands on her knees as she knelt slightly to the floor, head lowered, "This young and fur-less one comes before you to humbly request the Supreme Super Secret Knowledge of she who is wiser and older than her, O, Classy One." The cat smiled, gesturing a paw in a 'go on' motion. Fionna blew out a sigh, pouting, and took another breath, "This young and fur-less one offers seafood for dinner and the Classy One's desired amount of spine scratches in return for the Knowledge."

"Hmm..." Cake rubbed a paw under her chin, "The desired amount, huh?"

Fionna nodded, making her stare as earnest as possible.

"Okay!" Cake chirped happily, and tumbled over to the couch, patting the seat next to her, "Step into my office, girl!"

Fionna rolled her eyes and plunked down next to the feline, "Now," Cake began, "Takin' care of a zombie's pretty easy, but curing? Not so much. There's different _types _of zombie, y'know, so the cure depends on the kind. What kind are we dealing with?"

"Minion zombies." Fionna told her, "Like, uh, kind of like the kinds Marshall brings up. Er, but I think this one's more alive than dead.  
I think.  
I hope."

She tried to keep it subtle, but at the mention of Marshall Cake's eyes narrowed and the tip of her tail started twitching.

"Fang-y boy, hmm?"

Fionna rubbed the back of her hat, "Okay, I probably should've told you this before, Cake, but something's up with Marshall.  
And maybe Gumball."

"Din't have t' be the genius I am to work that out," Cake grumbled, settling back, "Since that whole fancy language stuff the vampire threw at you, they've both been funny. Too funny. But exactly _how _funny?" Fionna lowered her head in shame as the cat looked at her.

Cake sighed, "Fionna?"

"Y-yeah?" Fionna asked, still shame-faced.

Cake patted her gently on the head, nose wrinkling slightly at the ashes, "Tell me what's goin' on, baby, I'm all ears."

She stretched her ears out to the size of an elephant's, grinning as Fionna snorted in a laugh.

"And what the heck do those boys have to do with zombies?" Cake continued, and Fionna's mouth made a line.

"_Ca-ake_," she whined, "I'm saying that Marshall's trying to turn me into a minion again, but a _zombie _one, and he already turned Gumball into one so now I gotta cure _him_ before I can kick Marshall's butt."

She gasped, "Oh, glob. He took over Gumball for his Prince-y thing, and is after me for my hero-y thing!  
Marshall's trying to take over _Aaa_, Cake!"

. . .

The cat stared at her blankly for a minute, "'Scuse me for a moment, honey, I-uh-I gotta hairball."

The feline dashed quickly off, and Fionna waited awkwardly.

The moments ticked by.

Since when did hacking up a hairball sound like painful laughter?

Cake came back, wiping her eyes, and seemed to grin a lot wider than usual. Fionna was a bit concerned.

"So, uh, curing _zombies_, huh? Right, right, right, _all _over this."

Cake put a paw to her chin, "Okay, first, uh, hm, first you gotta, uh, find out how much they are controlling you."

Cake glanced at her, "So, we know Marshall did his fancy 'spell' thing, what'd Gumbo do?"

Fionna opened her mouth, but nothing came out, and her face turned as red as a tomato.

"Uh-h, I, hang on, moment..." Fionna garbled out, dashing away.

Cake waited, eyes sharp and narrow, kicking her legs against the couch, and heard a faint, desperately muffled '_Blarghrfrblnngnnrr'._

_Ooh, boy..._ Cake thought. After this she was gonna find herself a new _scratching post._

Fionna came back, gently patting her cooling face, and sat down, taking a deep breath.

She took another one, and then mumbled something quietly.

Cake's oversized ears picked up on it anyway, and her fur snapped at the edges.

"He _what?!_" she squealed.

Fionna mumbled protestingly.

"On your _what?!_" Cake shouted, tugging at her own whiskers in shock.

"Gah, for the love a'—he only kissed my _face_, Cake!" Fionna groaned, curling into the couch.

"But he _kissed _ya, he—sneaky li'l—!" Cake calmed down, "Sneaky little..._zombie _minion...right..."

Cake took a few breaths, and then snickered, "Heh-heh-heh, those twerps won't know what got 'em..."

She leaned back coolly, smoothing down her tail, "Don't worry, baby, Cake's got all the know-how to, uh, cure the zombie."

She grinned, "Some a' this is gonna sound a bit weird, but it'll save ya from bein' one of them, 'kay?"

Fionna nodded resolutely, and Cake's grin grew impossibly wide before it settled.

"Okay, here's what's gonna go down..."

* * *

**Author's note: **_Where would we be without our sisters? _. . . _Probably a lot more sane. I know this one's a lot shorter, but I hope it's sweet.  
Keep calm and carry coffee!_


	12. Interrogation

Prince Gumball winced as another branch clipped his crown, which miraculously, and through secrets that he'd never reveal, was still on his head. This, so far, has been a very strange morning. It had yet to bridge into the usual strangeness, so he wasn't too worried yet.

"Hello, Fionna." he managed.

"Hey, Gumball!" she said back cheerfully from behind him.

For another moment there was only the sound of the wind rushing by.

"I hate to sound demanding, but would you care to tell me what this is all ab-_o-out?!_" he asked, swallowing a yelp as she made a pretty impressive jump.

"Nah, don't worry, I'll explain everything after Cake cures you."

He was even more confused at this piece of information.

His continued questioning was spent into a brief yell as she was suddenly climbing up something, a cliff, and he watched the ground move away from his feet. The circumstances were unexpected, if he was honest, but the carrying out of the circumstances met Fionna to the letter. It had started out as a pretty regular morning, breakfast, review of today's schedule, and a meeting. It had been fortunate that the meeting wasn't important or one that he liked.

They had been discussing the current financial status of the odd job market when the window had been smashed in. She'd rolled in, dressed head to toe in 'mojo ninja' garb, though he'd recognize that hair and figure anywhere, and with a surprisingly admirable efficiency had trussed him up, knees to his chest, arms to his sides, and strapped him to her back like a backpack, silent and quick.  
His schedule had been interrupted (with some surprised welcome) by a hero, _his _hero, kidnapping him.

Might as well play along and see where this goes. The bindings on his arms had give beyond the elbow, but the knots were too good, not that he'd try to unravel them now: that'd be rude to her and inconvenient for the both of them.  
It'd be bad for what remained of his ego if he had to be rescued from his own escape attempt.

When he got over the initial shock, actually, this action was rather endearing, somehow. He wondered what this said about him. He was prepared, however, to quickly recalibrate his viewpoint if and when the situation became not-so-endearing.  
And it soon was as she made it to a clearing.

"Hey, Cake! I got 'im!" he heard her say, and he was gently sat on the ground and turned around, where Fionna's smiling face came into view. Well, he could only see her eyes and that cute lock of hair in that mask, but she looked like she was smiling.

"Don't worry, everything's gonna be okay." she reassured him, which wasn't very reassuring at all, considering the way her sister was grinning.

"Don't forget, keep fang-y boy distracted at all costs!" the cat told her, and she nodded, briefly saluting, before smiling again at the prince.

"See you later, Gumball!"

"W-wait, Fionna—!" but she was already gone, "_Fionna?!_"

His voice at that point had risen slightly to a squeak he hadn't possessed since adolescence, as he came face to muzzle with the feline.

She grinned, "Hiya, Gumbo."

"H-hello, Cake. Nice weather, isn't it?" he replied amiably, desperately testing those knots, and flinching when her grin fell to a scowl.

"Shut up, Your Highness, and let me do the talkin'."

She paced around him, somehow having acquired a military cap, and he felt her tail smack his fingers with a sting, "Escape's pointless, y'know."

She was in front of him again, eyes reptilian narrow, "I'm onta you and your li'l vampire, too. Hear me?"

He swallowed, his viewpoint definitely recalibrated by now.

Cake's grin had returned, a bit more maliciously, "So-o, care t' prove me wrong?"

* * *

"Fionna-a..." Marshall called out, peering around the cave, scowling, "I don't have time for thi-is..."

He heard a few amateur notes be plucked into the air from _his _guitar and he snarled, "You're really starting to _ask _for it, Fifi!"

"You're really starting to _ask _for it, Fifi!" she mimicked him with a slight giggle, totally mocking him with that stupid little voice of hers.

Marshall grinned, eyes narrowing, "Keep talking, makes this easier."

"Keep talking, makes this easier."

Was she under the house? Behind the stala-thingy? Her stupid ninja outfit wasn't helping.

He snorted at how stupid this was, and blinked when she snorted back, a bit more exaggerated.

"Okay, what are ya, twelve?"

"Okay, what are ya, twelve?"

He leered, "I'm a short little buck-tooth girly-girl who still plays with dolls."

"At least you're finally admitting it!"

He felt his eye twitch. This had started out kind of cute, but she was really getting on his nerves now.

_"I'M GONNA FREAKING EAT YOU, FIO!"  
_

* * *

"I thought it was weird enough that you and Marshy were gettin' all chummy," Cake mused. She'd tipped him over and was using his back as a seat, never mind that his legs were falling asleep and that his face was nearly smushed into the dirt, "Well, chummy enough for _him _anyway. Monochro was talkin' about it sometimes, and I was all like 'Honey, it's cool that they're finally not all awkward and snappy, let bros be bros!' and all that stuff. And yeah, I was cool with that, finally got some of the drama out of the day to day." Her tail swished in her rising annoyance, making him want to sneeze, "And then y'all are suddenly takin' up my baby sister's time, givin' her random missions and things like that, pretending you're not all that chummy, but I know ya are, I got eyes. And I don't like what I'm seein'."

She stretched over to look at him upside down, somehow keeping the hat on. Her eyes were bright and narrow, "I'm cool enough to not worry about what's goin' on between you and fang-y boy. But if it's gonna involve _my _baby? Uh-uh." She poked him in the forehead, "You're plannin' somethin', boy, you and Marshy both, and it's not likely gonna end well, is it?" She sniffed, "I hate all that dancy-round-the-subject stuff, I hate it when anyone starts ta play _those _kinds of games."

She rolled off to face him proper, her claws sinking into the dirt, "Fionna's not someone to play those games, Gummy Boy, and I'm not about t' let some one or ones play those games with her." She grinned, and it wasn't happy, "Sure, ya think that, after the game ends, you can rely on your bros, right, la-dee-da had our fun, time to get back to normal? But who's gonna take care of _her_, huh? Who'd take care of _my _girl after she done gets her heart broke? I can probably do a patch-up, but there's only so much I can do, bein' her sister. _You _guys are her bros, the dudes she _trusts_. And _what _are ya doin'?"

She snarled, reminding him disturbingly of Marshall, "You're freaking settin' her heart up for breaking, you jerk-face! You _kissed _her, you both are messing with her head and thinking it's gonna work into some super-secret-spitting-contest junk with _her_ heart as the stake.  
_I'm not gonna let that happen._"

She paused, and then chuckled a bit, rocking back and forth, her tail morphed into some sort of rocker, "Fortunately some of my work's already done for me. She's onta ya too, y'know, but not quite. Poor thing's really got her head somewhere else. Thinks y'all are trying t' 'zombify' her." she squealed a bit, "She's just too freaking precious sometimes!" She smiled down at him, "But don't think that's gonna make me any easier on ya, Gumbo. You and Marshy?" she inched in real close, morphing her face into something demonic, "Back off of my baby, or I'll bear down on you with all the wrath an angry magic cat can bring up."

Gumball swallowed, but steeled himself, and opened his mouth to reply.

* * *

Marshall Lee was, to all intents and purposes, sulking. Fionna was being particularly evasive, and when he thought he'd had enough and wanted to leave to clear his head, she managed to find _something __else _to snag his attention. Jeez, the little prankster was good.

"If ya wanted to spend some time in my company, ya only had to ask, y'know?" he growled, and was met with a moment of blissful silence.  
Silence which, oddly enough, let him pinpoint her hiding spot a bit more easily. With all the noise, he'd forgotten that one other giveaway. Smell.

He floated around, quietly following that little trail of peachy shampoo that looped and bounced around the cavern.

"Yeah, you're probably right." he heard her admit, "But this seemed a bit more dist—_fun!_ Yeah, fun!"

"Really?" he drawled, looking for that little shock of blonde, letting his voice echo, "Taking my tunes and driving me up the wall's fun?"

"Um..." she seemed to be thinking it over.

"Jumping around and waltzing around my home without even sayin' 'hello' is fun?"

"Well..."

"I'm hurt, Fifi," he grinned, seeing her, _finally_, "But I guess since it's all just 'fun'..."

He dove in behind, snatching the guitar out of her hands and shoving her into the wall, flying off again just as quick, turning invisible.

"Why don't I return the favor, huh?"

He chuckled, strumming out a twisted tune as she whirled around, looking for him.

"Sun's a-settin', Fionna, might wanna run while ya can!" he grinned, "I'm _it_."

Uncertainty and something else—hey, was she _smiling?_—crossed her face, and she dashed out.  
He counted to five (ten was lame) until he chased, using the shadows.

He saw the silhouette of her little ninja costume, feeling the funny beast in his blood rise with the chase-sorta-turning-into-a-hunt.

_This _was _fun._

He played the way he knew how, giving her little scares at turns, letting her run for a minute before catching up, struggling to keep up, snap at her heels, teasing, singing, and sometimes she got the drop on him. He loved it when someone knew how to play this game, and those people weren't many.

Ashley hated this game, brushing it off as a 'kiddy thrill', and Gummy Bear, sweet though he was, wasn't able to play it.

He told Fionna she ran like a girl and got a mouthful of branch for his trouble. He grinned, closing his jaw over it with a _snap_.

Even Fionna would probably think it was weird if she knew how much he enjoyed this.

Bu-ut she'd never know, would she?

Well, the sun was down, the party's over. Might as well find out what the stuff this was all about.

He dropped the guitar and caught her, putting her in a lock against the tree, keeping an eye out for her freaky strength.

"Gotcha." he laughed, grinning. "So-o, I got a few things on my mind I wanted to run by ya, Fio..."

He leaned in, unable to trace her shape in the dark, looking at the tuft of hair that escaped from the mask. She wasn't really doing anything, which was weird, she'd usually be trying to shove him off by now. She was only staring.

"One of 'em is..."

Yup, there was that peachy shampoo scent, and he breathed it in, wishing he could actually eat peaches for a moment, but settling for something nicer. Yeah, that familiar sweet scent, that and...

And...?

"Is..."

There was something else a bit...sweeter...

. . . Huh.

He backed off to stare at her, "Fionna, somethin' I wanna know is why you suddenly smell like Gumball."

And, as simple as that, Fionna _blushed.  
_

* * *

**Author's note: **_Yes, I am evil, and a tease. I'm sorry again for delays, it was just that writer's block for this chapter.  
I hope you all are still there! Thanks!_


	13. Misunderstandings

"No."

". . . My hearin' must be stopped up, say that to my face."

"No!"

"_Say that again, say 'no' again, Your Majesty!_"

"No!"

"Are you sassin' me?! Back up, and back off!"

"I am not sassing you, Cake, I am giving you my answer! I politely refuse to acquiesce to your rather unreasonable demands!"

"I'm not _demanding_, boy, I'm _telling. _You _are _gonna _back the fluff off!_"

Gumball glared, his migraine throbbing in the back of his skull.

Being shouted at in the face by an angry, stubborn cat really didn't do much for diplomacy.

His eyes narrowed and he knelt up as much as his bonds would allow. He took a breath.

"Cake, I appreciate your concerns," he said quietly, "In fact, I hold some respect for them, and for you. What I don't appreciate is your apparent lack of respect for me and my own motives, my own concerns. Fionna isn't the only one who has something to lose in this—what was the word you used? _Game?_"

* * *

Marshall saw the mask shift around her mouth as she grinned, but the grin didn't reach her eyes.  
Her eyes looked like the look of somethin' cornered.

Ah-hah.

"Wha-at are ya talking about?" she said, laughing nervously.

"Just," he replied, "What I said." He leaned in to sniff again, partly to verify, mostly to get that blush to darken.

Ooh, yup, there it goes.

"You smell like Gumball. . ." he inhaled again, nose wrinkling, "And like Cake, too."

"I-I had dessert!" she protested.

He laughed, "Like your sister, you dweeb!"

He grinned up at her. He was curious, sure, but this was funny.

"C'mon... Whatcha hidin' from me, Fifi?"

She stared back, any skin showing in the mask was a nice, deep cherry red. It stopped being funny when he got a knee in the gut.

A deep hiss of pain almost didn't let him hear her, "_Ya ain't gonna take me alive or undead, Overlord scum!_"

"What...the...stuff...?" he gasped, doubled over, and she ran.

He couldn't freaking breathe, and he didn't _have _to breathe! That little—! He opened his eyes, feeling his fangs itch.

Pain was quickly replaced by a vendetta, and he whirled around to see where she ran off.

Playtime was so _over,_ he thought to himself, demon eyes coming out full force.

* * *

"Yes, Marshall and I do have plans involving Fionna that are probably less than conventional," he admitted.  
"But we—_I_, I am also being _practical._"  
He smiled at the cat, "Really, how do you think she would have reacted had we brought everything front and center?"

He talked before she could interrupt, "Perhaps think we were kidding, perhaps think it would be a mean sort of prank, perhaps she wouldn't think well of it at all, and it would ruin any chance of even salvaging friendship, or trust. All of these 'games', as you've termed them, are precautions. Insurances. Baby steps." he smiled a very 'un-Gumball' smile, "Sort of like introducing one to a children's swimming pool for lessons before taking the dive. We're introducing an 'Idea' before delivering the 'Fact'. And yes, it is manipulative, perhaps wrongly so, but should it fail, I want us all to come out the best from it."

He sighed, "And hers isn't the only heart that would be broken. All of the work put into this, only to fail, I might very well reject Marshall myself in a small way, even if I knew better. And I think he knows that. But we're of different mindsets, different objectives, so I can't be sure."

He rolled his eyes, "Those 'different mindsets' have made any logical predictions very, very difficult."

He looked back at her, and was surprised to see her pupils widened, staring back at him. He set his expression.

"So, no, I am not doing this for laughs, or games, or for the crude 'notch in the bedpost'. I have my dignity, and my morals. And those morals and our friendship are probably the only things keeping me from exerting the powers of my status and condemning you for the kidnap and abuse of a royal, Cake."

His eyes narrowed.

"Please take it upon yourself to release me as a sign of recognition and mutual respect, so I may properly convey my reasoning."

The cat blinked, and nervously batted the knots loose. He stood up, and up, and stretched, working the numbness out of his legs and the stiffness out of his joints. He straightened his clothes, looking a bit regretfully at the stains and tears, and looked down at the cat, who suddenly seemed so much shorter.

"S'rry..." she mumbled. "But...but it's really the _two _a' ya?"

He felt his face flush, rubbing the back of his head, "It's a bit complicated... Well, not really, but like I said, it's not very...conventional..."

Cake stared at him, before she shook her head quickly, swatting the sides of her face, startling him.

"Still!" she snarled, when she was done, "What makes ya think that _she _wants in on any of this mushy mess, anyway, or _would _want to?!"

He blinked, and thought about it. After thinking about it, he suddenly smiled, and looked down at the cat.

"Well..."

* * *

Marshall was seriously ticked off at this point, enough that he couldn't enjoy the chase anymore and just. Wanted. To. _Catch_. Her.

"Fionna-a-a..." he sang out, scanning the shadows, looking for a flash of blonde, or skin, a flush of red.

"This is pretty suspicious,  
Not that I'm malicious,  
But this little game,  
Is getting pretty lame,  
Let's get some things straight,  
It's not too much late,  
I'm ready to hear ya,  
So come out where I can see ya,  
Fionna, come out, wherever you are..."

He zoomed to where something rustled, and growled when it was only an owl. Then he grinned, and turned into a bat, but a smaller one.  
He began flying through the trees, looking around in a form she wouldn't know to run away from.  
This plan quickly backfired when something landed on him. He transformed back quickly, but this only let her put him in a lock.

"_Arm! Arm! Arm! Arm!_" he roared, struggling, settling for a good old shriek before rolling over and pinning her under his back.

"Oof!"

He grew, quickly, and was easily able to pin her under one hand as a giant bat.

He leaned down to look at her, grinning at how tiny the li'l wannabe ninja was.

"Care to tell me what all this crap's about now?" he asked, listening. These ears were nice, could hear her breath, her heartbeat, any little lie she'd spit out.

"I know what you're doing, Marshall!" she spat out. He blinked. That wasn't a lie. Well, stuff it, she knew?

". . . Really, now?" he asked after a bit, leaning on the arm that wasn't holding her down.  
He laughed as she wriggled again, "Is it really so bad, Fio?"

"Of course it is!" she snapped back, and he flinched back a bit, frowning.

. . . Huh. . .that actually hurt.

"I guess that's the answer, then, huh?" he asked, growling, "You answered Gumball already?"

"What?" she glared up again, making a face after she'd tried gnawing on his hand, "What're ya talkin' about? I took him to Cake to cure him!"

He blinked again. Okay, the chick lost him. He pulled down the mask with a claw, staring at her.

"Come again?"

She hissed at the claw, and looked up at him like the little determined spaz she was. It was adorable.

"I know you're planning to take over Aaa, Marshall." she explained, looking displeased, "You brainwashed Gumball into being a zombie minion and now you're using him to brainwash-zombie minion me, right? The both of ya?" she grinned, "It's not gonna work! You're not gonna win, 'cause I'm in the know, now! HA!"

She was looking pretty triumphant for being pinned. He stared for a minute, turning it over in his head.

Oh. So that's what this was all about.

A little chuckle bubbled up from his chest before he knew it. Trying to stop made it blow up into full-on laughter, feeling freaky coming from a bat chest. He shrunk down before he could stop himself, still laughing like a maniac.  
He looked down at Fionna, wiping a few tears from his eyes.

That, that was just so _her__! _Humor and, glob, was that _relief?_ Man, he was getting soft. It took a moment for him to speak.

"G-geez, Fionna, I," he looked down at her, remembering he was practically on top of her—_nice_—and grinned.  
"Is that-heh-is that what this is about?"

She frowned, a nice shade of pink on her cheeks, "It's—isn't it?"

"Hack, no!" he snorted, still chuckling like an idiot, keeping her down by her wrists, but she seemed a bit too unnerved to fight now. Eh, maybe getting laughed at did that to people, who knew? "Really, Fionna, I'd like to think I had more style if I wanted to take over Aaa, hm? Zombie minions? Seriously, I could summon an army of the undead at the flash of lightning and still have time for a bite to eat. Armies are dull anyway, and who would wanna own this place? I'm the freaking _Prince _of the _Nightosphere.  
_If I wanted to take over, anybody here would dang well know it."

"B-but..." she replied, frowning, looking both confused and offended, and he gently knocked his forehead into hers, staring, grinning.  
He was _enjoying _this.

"So," he went on, "I think there's a little misunderstanding, huh?"

"B-but, you and Gumball, you..." she stammered, hands nervously clenching and unclenching.

He smirked, "No wicked undead Overlord business here. Though that doesn't mean there isn't gonna be a 'takeover'."

He looked at her, and sighed at her blank face, "Don't worry about it right now, Fio. Just don't think we're bad guys, here, okay? There are no zombie minions, no evil brainwashing business, no plans to take over the world. It's all cool."

He smiled, "Alright?"

She nodded dumbly, and he grinned, and placed a quick kiss right between her frowning little eyebrows, "Cool."

She was sweet. Not as sweet as GB, but still sweet.

She froze up, and he laughed a bit to himself as he floated up, yawning, "Let's do this again some time, though, it was pretty fun."

He looked down at her, as something other than shock crossed her very reddened features. Panic?

"Fionna?"

Did he break her?

"_OhmyglobIgottagorescueGumball!_" she shrieked, leaping up, and she dashed off. Again.

He blinked, and smacked his fist into his palm, "Oh, right, Gummy Bear's with Cake..."

He nodded, "Yeah, better go get 'em."

But that stupid grin was still on his face. That expression on her face was a bit like the one he'd seen at the Casual Tea.

Points to the Vampire King.

* * *

"If I can take what you said into account, it means that she's noticed _something,_ hasn't she?" Gumball asked the cat, and smiled when her fur fuzzed with static, "And if she's noticed something," he continued, "That means that _something _has taken her interest."  
He smiled, "And something has to be there in her in the first place for her to be interested, right?" he asked.

Cake stared, and drooped, though still looked static, "Well, _fluff_." she grumbled.

"Dudes!"

They both looked up to see Marshall float down, looking excited, and he leered at Cake, "'Sup, fluffy?"

He grinned at Gumball, "Explained as much as was necessary to Fio, and at first she was all like 'gotta rescue GB!' and then along the way was 'gotta talk to Cake', and then it turned into something like 'need a _talk _with Cake', and here's the li'l lady of the hour right now!"

They both whirled around as Fionna landed in the clearing, looking very, very determined.

Cake laughed a bit, nervous, "Hiya, Fionna."

Gumball waved a bit, and Marshall watched. Enjoying every. Single. Moment.

"Ca-ake," Fionna growled, "You have some explaining to do..."

* * *

Marshall drifted back into his house, hovering above the couch with a contented sigh. He guessed Fionna _still _wasn't quite getting what was going on, but he wouldn't hold that against her. She was still pretty immature in some ways, and emotion was the biggest one of them.  
This had been _fun, _and left him with a pretty good feeling.

The good feeling shorted out a bit when a bunch of penguins surrounded him and stuffed him into a bag.


	14. Enter The Dragons

She was waiting patiently. Ve-e-ery patiently. Her finely manicured nails tapped out rhythms on the ice.

She was about to not be patient when finally someone was coming into the hall.

"Woo! You got him?!" she asked, finally!

Then she blinked. Well, technically they did.

Marshall looked up at her on her throne, one eyebrow raised as the sack over his shoulder wriggled and quacked.

"Y'know, I think your little minions here got the wrong address," he commented, giving the sack a jostle, and she frowned. "'Cause, last I checked, I wasn't pink, or wimpy, or in the wonderful land of Cavity-ville. Also, this isn't your style, Queenie, what gives?"

She settled back, grinning. He was here, that was all that mattered at the moment. "I wasn't after sweet stuff this time, fly boy." she chuckled.

He stared, and then made a face, "What the stuff, Simone?! We already went over this!"

She couldn't help it, she cackled, "Oh, that's not—no, no, no! I'm flattered, Marshy, but you're not my type. What made you think _that_?!"

She winked, "Naughty."

He shuddered, then seemed to straighten, "Pfft, whatever. Look, didn't you learn your lesson the last time? Keep out of my business."

"Hmm..." she kicked back on her throne, looking at her nails, "I don't think I want to."

He stared, and then he grinned, "What if I gave your little squeaky toys a flying lesson?" he replied, holding out the sack.

It was her turn to raise an (evil!) eyebrow, and grin as walls of ice quickly covered the door and ceiling.

"Drop the penguins, sweetie." she suggested, "We're gonna have a li'l chat, you and I."

She scowled when he made a face again, "Not like that! Get your brain out of the gutter and listen up!"

He glanced from the sack he held, back to the Ice Queen, and then settled by sitting on top of it, the wriggling apparently not bothering him.

There was an indignant bout of quacking. The Queen rolled her eyes, "Oh, real mature."

"You want to talk, talk." he replied, lazily linking his hands behind his neck.

She smirked, "First things first, I'm confessing to a slight change of heart."

She yawned, "I'm gonna stop trying to marry my honey, so you don't have to worry about ruining that anymore, 'kay?"

He blinked, "No, seriously."

"Seriously!" she snorted, "He's sweet, but after the little bombshell you dropped, I found I didn't want to catch cooties from that. Little two-timing traitor," she muttered, then she shrugged, "Eh, when one must sow oats. Anyway, I'm forgiving enough for that."

She giggled, rubbing her hands together, "But then you say you're gonna involve _Fionna? He's gonna freaking triple-time me!_"

She squealed, "Ooh-h-h, I can't take it, tell me how it's going!"

Marshall watched with a sort of horrified surprise as she'd rolled over on her stomach on her throne, head held up by her hands, feet kicking childishly, and she was smiling with the scariest expression he'd ever seen on her. _Interest._

"Ya lost me." he said bluntly, and she scowled a bit. "You're supposed to tell me how you two confessed to her, duh! Was it sweet? Was it...not so sweet?" she said, that condemningly _interested _expression crossing over her blue face again.

Then she stared when he didn't say anything, "You...haven't confessed yet."

He was feeling strangely sheepish, he scratched the back of his head, coughing, "Uh, well, there's a Plan, sorta, and it's goin'. Not as fast as I want, but GB keeps telling me that—oh, hack, why am I telling _you_ this?!" he growled, "Keep outta my business, you weirdo!"

She grinned, but this smile was a lot more icy. Yup, he thought, pun totally intended.

"Nah, 'cause this is my business, too." she pointed out, "Now we get to the meat of our li'l chat, here. So be quiet."

She held up a finger, "One, I'm giving you my blessing to do whatever it is you do with _my fiancé_," Did her cheeks have little red in them? "Two, your business is involving _my _archenemy, who I certainly don't remember giving you permission to court, and—"

"Woah, woah, hold up!" he exclaimed, sitting up on the sack, "_Your _archenemy? One, I fight with her more than you do, and two, what the heck gives you the right to have a say in whoever she—"

"I WASN'T FINISHED. BE. QUIET." she snarled, and for a moment the room _wavered _with darkness and the blade-sharp glitter of ice.

Even the quacking from the sack had shut up. He swallowed.

"Sure, you might wrestle a little more with her," she growled, "But she _fights _more with _me_. Got that? Third, and last reason," she sighed, "This gives ya more of an advantage than I do. If you screw this up, the little wuss will most likely get her heart broken." she pouted, "And she'll cry. Then she'll be totally useless for fighting. She will cry, have her heart broken, no longer wanna fight, blah, blah, blah. And it will be so _boring_. Plus," she grinned, "No one breaks her but me. I'm the archenemy here, so that is my job, and _my _right. Not yours, and not my honey's."

She smirked, "So don't screw this up, 'kay sweetie?"

He scowled, "You're twisted, lady."

She chuckled, "I try. But really. Don't. 'Cause if you do, well," she put a finger to her lip thoughtfully, "There's a great place I go to sometimes, when I wanna get away from it all. All ice, all flat, all quiet. Most times it's all dark and starry, but then there's a season where there is only the sun, and not the kind that goes up to noontime. It's always sneaking around the horizon." She grinned like a shark, "I can make a little plinth to freeze you to, for that season. It won't be enough to turn you to ash, just enough to singe you a bit. For months." she cackled, "Like a little vampire rotisserie on ice!"

She leaned back, "Ahh, and while you're being barbecued, I'll just take my honey back and destroy what's left of Fionna. If you screw up."

She winked, "Which I know you won't, ri~ight?"

He was staring, and then he snorted, "First off, Queenie, you don't scare me. Second, this is way too sudden. Really, why the flip?"

"Why else? It's hot!" she said bluntly, and Marshall suddenly felt very grossed out and dirty.

"Ugh! You know what? Whatever, forget you!" he spat out, floating up, really, really wanting out of here, "Just stay away from them, got it? Or I'll find a flamethrower and melt this place, and fry your little squeaky toys, too!"

"Don't be a stranger!" she giggled, blowing a kiss. He shuddered, and quickly flew out of the hole she so nicely provided for him.

She laughed again, sighing as her little minions struggled out of the bag. "Ahh, he's so cute to rile up!"

With a scowl she glared at the penguins, "You are useless minions. Be grateful he was curious enough."

One of them, Glourie, gave an apologetic quack, and she nodded, dismissing them.

Really, after she thought about it, the situation was hot, but had some...vicarious opportunities too.

Man, she thought stuff like this only happened in novels!

Plus, some little part of her might have a soft spot for those kids. Maybe. She would definitely want a report on that happy ending.

A penguin, Gary, waddled up, offering a phone with a meow. She glanced with concern at this minion, she was one of the 'special' ones, but took the phone anyway, dialling a familiar number she hadn't had an excuse to use in a long time. Not that she bothered using excuses before.

She leaned back, lifting a slipper-shod foot into the air, waiting for the pickup.

"Hey, Harry! It's me-e-e!" she squealed, ". . . Yes, I have your number! But really, I got something you'll want to hear!"

. . .

"Keep talking like that and I'll make _sure _your place is frozen over. Seriously, how close of an eye do you keep on that kid of yours?"

. . .

"Yes, he's fallen in love. But _twice_."

. . .

She giggled, "Really, Harriet, trust me, you'll _enjoy _this..."


	15. Silver Lining

Gumball shifted uncomfortably, trying to pretend all was usual. However, there really wasn't a way to avoid the current situation.

"Look," he began, "I really am sorry things have went the way they did. Really, though, had to expect some crossing of interests, I mean..."

Lord Monochromicorn stared, clearly unforgiving, not seeming to be understanding. He clipped out something slowly.

Gumball swallowed, "I know, I know, but she _kidnapped _me, and really hadn't made the situation any easier for hers—!"

Another bout of staccato hoofbeats, this time more aggressive.

"No, no, I didn't mean _that_, I'm sure she is a perfectly capable woman...cat...person, but-but they're sisters, you can't really expect me to manage a complete isolation of my own interests in juxtaposition to yours, conflict of investment was bound to happen some time!"

This time the clipping was more pointed. Gumball scoffed.

"No, it's not a matter of 'who got who first'! I'm _working _on it! Length of a relationship doesn't decide precedence!"

The noir unicorn snorted as he tapped out an inquiry.

". . . _Yes_, I'm technically in a relationship already, but that's not the one I'm talking about."

He 'said' nothing this time, and just gave the Candy Prince a _look_.

Gumball scowled, "Oh, don't start _that_ with me, man! I've already run through the 'complications' of the dynamics, but it will work, you'll see."

His friend gave out something that sounded much like a snicker, the hoof almost lazy as it beat against the stone.

Gumball's cheeks reddened somewhat as he coughed, "Oh, shut up. Sometimes secrecy is necessary. Besides, both of our respective prospects look good. Fionna isn't alienated, er, yet, and Cake will forgive you for being my friend. Eventually. I'm sure."

Monochro gave a scowl, which was pretty impressive considering an equine's physical capability for expression, and turned his back on his friend.

Gumball spluttered, "I said I was sorry!"

Monochro rolled his eyes, scowling at the wall, wishing humans weren't so confoundedly 'complicated'.  
He looked forward to them all just getting this mess over with, or at least learning how to keep it to themselves.

Dearly though he loved her, at least he knew Cake was getting her own version of the 'stable'.

* * *

Fionna was dressed in her 'mojo' garb again.

The ninja outfit of awesomeness shuffled to the back of the closet as a forseeable 'Thing of Shame'.  
Okay, so maybe the mojo outfit was a pair of pajamas she'd found in a trunk, but they were comfy, and she needed some 'comfy' right now.  
So she wasn't meditating.

She just really wasn't in a 'mojo' frame of mind.

Her knees were clutched to her chest as she gently rocked back and forth, staring out the window.

"I kidnapped Gumball." she said flatly, and Cake's ears drooped as she stood anxiously in the doorway.

"I kidnapped Gumball," she repeated, "From an Official Meeting with Official People. It was all Official and stuff. They had papers."

She paused for a moment, and Cake blinked, then she started rocking again.

"I stole Marshall's guitar."

Fionna began to grimace in fascinated terror, "I played on it. I played on _Marshall's guitar, Cake!_"

She stood and whirled around the face her sister, her hands squashing at the sides of her face in horror, "_Why did I do thaaat, Caaake?!_"

"I really thought it was zombies!" Cake protested, and Fionna snapped out of it, glaring.

"Nuh-uh, _I _thought it was zombies," she pointed out, and Cake puddled in shame.

Literally, she puddled into a furry, fluffy mass on the floorboards.

"_You _kept me up on it." the heroine continued. Then she smacked her forehead into the nearest wall, and the wall shook.

"Ugh, I freaked out over a 'thank-you'!" she moaned. "And you..." she turned a betrayed face to the cat, "Why'd you let me freak out?"

". . . 'Cause it freaked me out, too..." Cake sniffled, and Fionna paused.

Fionna sat down, absently rubbing her forehead. "Ow."

Fionna leaned against the wall, sighing, "Okay, apparently face-kisses were 'thank-yous', I mean, the guy speaks German a lot and other fancy languages, so he's got to know about fancy foreign stuff, so I guess it makes sense, and like the freak I was I freaked out about it..."

What was Marshall's kiss though? That bit confused her. He sure didn't have anything to _thank_ her for.

But considering all the mess a face-kiss made, she wasn't about to tell Cake about Marshall yet. She had to think about things.

All the things she did zoomed past her eyes in an embarrassing 'look what _yooou diiid_' scenario and she groaned again.

"Why did ya have me do all that, Cake?" she lamented, and her sister rolled to puddle next to her, looking like the very essence of shame.

"It freaked me out, too..." the cat mumbled, "And I didn't want anythin' funny happenin', y'know? You were all freaked out, so I was all freaked out, and ya _know_ how freaking out really rubs my fur the wrong way. So I thought that we should'a, y'know, done somethin' about it... I really didn't mean to mess stuff up."

"It's okay..." Fionna sighed, and it really was. Marshall was strangely _happy _after all that junk, and Gumball seemed alright too.  
Which was weird.

Cake looked up at her sister, practically seeing the little wheels turn behind her eyes, and her pupils narrowed.

She got the gist of what was going on, and she knew Fionna was starting to, too, but she wasn't gonna make it easy for those boys, no, sir.

Fionna suddenly snickered, making Cake jump, "Heh, that was embarrassing. Pretty badawesome, but embarrassing. _  
I _was the crazy kidnapping lady this time, huh?"

Cake laughed a bit, "Yeah, and I was, like, the evil mastermind. Should'a gotten a throne or something. Starting to see the appeal to those."

Fionna frowned, "Does that make me the minion?"

Cake got herself back together, shaking her head, "Naw, you'd be like, the awesome second-in-command person."

She glanced at her sister, "We cool?"

Fionna 'hmm'ed, "Well, since it was really all of us freaking out, I guess we're cool. But next time we think before freaking, alright?"

Cake nodded happily, "Right! Queen of Cool, right here!"

They both sat back and let out a breath of relief.

Fionna looked around the living room thoughtfully, images of thrones and ninjas whirling through her brains.

"Hmm... Hey, Cake?"

"Yeah?"

"I got an idea for the next Casual Tea thing."

Cake blinked, "What is it?"

Fionna looked down at her and grinned.

"First, we need to make some thrones..."

* * *

**Author's note:** _You know those memorable little 'see what you did' moments you've done that make you physically cringe to recall? _

_Yeah, you know 'em. Keep calm and carry coffee!_


	16. Game of Scones

"So-o, remind me what we're doing again?" Marshall asked as they stood in the clearing. "War!" Fionna replied happily.

Gumball was understandably nervous.

She had warned them about bringing their 'fighting spirit'.

Fionna laughed at their expressions, a bit embarrassed, "With all the mess we got into the other day, I kinda wanted to make somethin' fun out of it, to patch things up..." Cake's ear twitched nervously. "So me and Cake made these two thrones!" She gestured proudly to their creations.

One was made out of what looked like branches and popsicle sticks, yet looked incredibly sturdy if...splinter-y.  
The other one was made of...straw-filled beanbags...  
How did they make one out of _that_?

"Ooh, ooh, and we got some pillows so ya don't hafta worry about heinie splinters!" Cake explained quickly, helpfully waving a few of the said fluffy, squishy, slightly patched-up items around like semaphore flags.

"Nice." Marshall deadpanned.

Monochromicorn snickered, but his ears quickly laid back in shame when Cake glared.

"They're quite...interesting crafts, girls," Gumball said carefully, "But...who's sitting on them, and why...?"

"It's my Casual Tea idea!" Fionna explained, "You made the stuff, right, GB?"

"Ye-es," the prince said reluctantly, gesturing to the picnic basket of assorted baked goods she'd requested, which he now realized might not survive a war zone. "But what are their purpose, Fionna?"

"They're the victory feast!" Fionna went on, "Oh, everybody gets some, but the winners get the first pickings!"

"So, this is a team gig?" Marshall inquired, looking around the forest.

"Yup!" She snickered, "It's awesome, it's like Capture the Flag, Hide and Seek, and Tag all at once!"

"A day of memorabilia!" Beemo chirped up happily, smiling when everyone stared at it. "I ate all the popsicles. _All_ of them..." it added proudly.

Fionna grinned, "I got Beemo to come today, since it wasn't able to come to the last one. Plus it makes the teams even!"

Marshall saluted with a grin, "Yo, Sparky." while Gumball waved, and Beemo did a little curtsy-bow.

"We each have our thrones, right?" the adventuress moved on, "Each throne has a team, in this case of three, with someone to sit on the throne and the other two to guard it or move out, right? The point is to kidnap the other team's throne-person, and keep them away from their own team, and hide them, like a hostage. After that, and only after that, they gotta take their own person, and put it on the other team's throne. But they can only do that when it's empty. Both throne-people can be kidnapped or rescued at any time, but they can't move themselves or use their powers. All powers are allowed in the guard-people, but no hurting anyone. Too badly. Just incapacitate them. Anyway, when one team's guy is on the other team's throne, that team wins.  
After that, we all get to eat! How's that?"

Beemo shyly raised a hand, "I ask a repeat," it piped up, "Set rules?"

"Um..." Gumball interjected, "I think it goes like this.

Two thrones. Two teams of three. One throne-person and two guards per team. The throne-people are bereft of their powers, being mere, powerless _figureheads _relying on the whims of an army they can't command," his expression seemed to become a bit blank when he said this, slightly worrying his comrades, but he resumed normally. "Ahem, pardon. The opposing throne-person must be kidnapped, and hidden, to ensure the opposing throne is empty.

Then the team must go _back _to get their own throne-person, assuming the opposing guards hadn't kidnapped it, and put it on the empty throne.

The kingdom that usurps the other wins.

Er, what happens if the kidnapping parties intercept each other?"

"WAR! Defend the homeland!" Fionna crowed.

Gumball nodded slowly, "And what happens if both thrones become occupied by opposing forces...?"

"WAR—uh, no, hang on..." Fionna frowned, "Hadn't thought about that..."

She rubbed her chin, "Hmm, how about they have to change who sits on the throne and _then_ declare a new war, with no winners yet?"

"Sounds reasonable...I think." Gumball sighed.

Marshall raised a hand, "We get to hide our thrones, right?"

"Yeah. But no putting them up on hard-to-reach places." Fionna warned flatly.

"And have a guard for the throne?" he went on.

"Er, yeah, but you can't move 'em yourself!"

Marshall shrugged, smirking.

"Are there boundaries?" Gumball asked, wisely taking heed from Marshall's expression.

"Keep to the woods, people," Cake warned, "And just no putting the thrones somewhere stupid, 'kay?"

"And no eating the food before then. This sounds exciting." Gumball said sincerely, after hiding said basket up in a tree already. He was genuinely intrigued by the 'tactic' inspired game Fionna had concocted. "Have you already predetermined the teams?"

Fionna nodded, "Yup. Me, Cake, and Beemo against you, Marshall, and Monochro. That okay?"

No one disagreed, and Fionna playfully smacked her fist against her palm, "Game on, guys. It's official when the war horn sounds."

She quickly snagged the branch-y throne, running off with it while screaming, "_For Casual Teeea!_" quickly followed by the cat and the robot.

Marshall languidly snatched up their own throne, a bit worried that it didn't sag in his grip. Freaky. "For something equally or more awesome."

He grinned at his teammates, "Dudes against chicks, or, well, chicks and a robot. Cool. Any plans, fellas?"

Monochrome tapped out something, looking pointedly at Gumball, who glared. Marshall snickered, "He's gotta point, GB, you do fit the bill."

"In royalty? Certainly. Though I think the 'dress' comment was unnecessary." Gumball sniffed.

Monochro managed to look sly, his hoofs making dulls thumps in the earth. Gumball flushed, and Marshall frowned.

"Didn't quite catch that," he glanced at the Candy Prince, "But dang, I wish I did! Spill, Gummy Bear!"

Gumball frowned, looking very sour, "My family on my mother's side were...traditional, alright?  
It was only the one time, and it. Was only. A _kilt_..."

The Vampire King stared, and promptly lost it.

_"GYAHAHAHAHA!"_

"_Moving on_," the monarch gritted out over the man's hysterical writhing, "I still object to being the stereotype here."

"Dude, it's the best choice, we're both fliers!" the vampire stated, once he caught his breath, gesturing between himself and the unicorn.

"Hate to be a critic, but, heh, what do you got? 'Sides a—_ohman, ha_—a _kilt?_"

Gumball stared at his comrades, and suddenly smiled. It was that benign lollipop smile that Marshall learned to know and be wary of.

"A secret weapon." he replied simply, "But my being able to use it is apparently up to you two, isn't it?"

Marshall and Monochro stared at their mutual comrade, and then each other. If the smile was anything to judge...

"Low blow, man, low blow..." Marshall growled. Gumball simply smiled, "Your call, gentlemen. The game starts soon."

They all jumped when a bugle shrilled out over the forest. "Quite soon."

Marshall glared, "Oh, stuff it... Let's go hide the stupid 'throne' and then decide! Let's move it, guys!"


	17. This Is Madness

Fionna bounced from tree to tree, keeping an eye on the skies, while Cake went all snakey near the ground.  
Gumball was definitely going to be on the throne, and knowing Marshall, he'd probably placed it somewhere in the trees. She could take on Marshall easy enough, and Cake and Monochro were pretty evenly matched, plus, Monochro would go easy on the cat, or so Cake told her, and not let anyone else fight with the feline.  
Fionna thought Cake was a pretty manipulative girlfriend. And Cake assured her they hadn't broken up, they were...what had she said?  
In tough love, that's what she said. Why Cake was so mad at Monochro, Fionna had no idea. Something about 'palling around with the enemy'.  
How was Gumball an enemy? _They'd _kidnapped him!

After growing up with a family of cats, Fionna thought she'd understand them better. But not really. Oh well, she loved her sis anyway.

Anyway, this was war, and stuff like love had nothing to do with it! Cake agreed with her a lot on this.

"Coming in at 2 o' clock, baby!" Cake called up from below, Fionna blinked, "What do we do until then?!" she called back.

Cake hissed and Fionna laughed, "Kidding!"

They launched themselves at the enemy. She saw Monochro, but where was—?

She blinked at the unicorn. Unexpected.

* * *

Beemo sat rather comfortably on its throne of tree sticks and treat sticks, kicking its feet against the edge.

"The royalty, am I, my subjects do go to war!" it hummed happily, "To war, to war, to trample the opposing and take lower the foe!"

It looked around, and up. Fionna had managed to dig this hole quite quickly. It was a nice hole, and the covering of leaves above was pleasant.

"Such a nice day for war, I should have invited Football." it mused. "But someone will be King-Queen next, I think, and gladly I will give the throne. Football will be pleased when I sing reports of my battling prowess!" It looked down at its throne. "The royalty, I, now craves popsicles. But they are all eaten."

It pouted, "Boo."

It sighed, looking up again, and smiled up at its royal hole hiding canopy, lovely shade, "Such a pleasant day for war, is it not, Football?"

Football agreed.

* * *

Fionna said nothing to give away her surprise, and thought nothing to give up her guard. The enemy was unexpected, but not to be underestimated despite temptations to do so. "Cake, flank me! Cat-apult!" she commanded, and felt the body of fur surge beneath her, flinging her to the opponent's level.

She knocked off Monochro's companion, heedless of the empty air, putting on her war face.

Gumball only smiled up at her, seeming to not be offended by the rough treatment or freaked that they were falling, "Hello, Fionna."

Cake stared as they went sailing off towards the trees, "Well, tha's different." she mumbled. She confronted her boyfriend.

"Hi, _honey_." she said between her clean, clean, smiling fangs.

Monochromicorn dipped his head in greeting, before the love of his life came at him like an affectionate little rage demon.

* * *

Marshall picked absently at a hole in the armrest lump, picking out bits of straw.

He looked around the gulch, which was hidden by a rocky overhang, listened to the distant yelling, and sighed.

"So. Freaking. _Bored_." he growled. Next time he was gonna vote for more power to the 'figurehead'.

* * *

She had the upper hand, she knew she did, but sheer hero-ing instinct made her turn so that she hit the ground first, Gumball's landing on her barely more than a heavy, weighted pillow. Still, he had weight to him. "Oof!"

"Woah! Ah, I'm sorry, are you alright, Fionna?" he asked, quickly getting off to kneel next to her.

"Urgh." she growled, glaring up at him, "That's not fair, Gumball."

He blinked, "I'm sorry?" But a little smile was tugging at his mouth, still. She _saw _it.

"I can't fight you!" she protested, and his smile was fully showing now. "Why not? It's part of the game, isn't it?"

"But-but you're—I mean it's not—it's!" she spluttered, opposing instincts conflicting in her poor brain. Protect the prince, or fight the enemy?!

"Ah, you were expecting _Marshall_..." Gumball sighed, shaking his head, "I understand. I'm sorry I'm not a worthier opponent, though I had wanted so much to play and not be the usual 'figurehead'," he looked morosely at her, "Do you want to start the game over?"

"No-no-no-no-no!" she protested. "I'll fight you!"

Gumball's smile came back, "Really?"

She nodded, quickly standing up and getting into a stance, "Yeah, yeah, come at me!"

She could throw him when he attacked, maybe into a tree or something, and not worry about it too much, and she wouldn't have 'fought' him.

But he didn't attack her—like he _should have—_and simply stood there, smiling at her. It was kinda creepy.

She scowled, feeling embarrassed, "W-well?!"

He shook his head, laughing a bit, "I appreciate your dilemma, and I'm really sorry, but I'm not going to let you cheat me of this, Fionna."

He took on a funny stance she didn't recognize, and she now noticed the bag slung against his hip.

He smiled at her, "Come. At. _Me_."

She stammered a bit, almost flinching back, and then set her face. He didn't stop smiling.

She came at him.

* * *

Cake sat stubbornly in the tree, not heeding the footsteps of her equine paramour as he hesitantly circled.  
He kept trying to catch her gaze, or glare, as it were.

"I _said _I wasn't gonna take any sweet talk," she grumbled.

"And I'm not gonna take any back talk, either. You gotta keep a better rein on your pals, buddy!"

Monochromicorn stopped and snorted indignantly, his hoofing firm and pointed.

Her ears drooped a bit, "Naw, that was a bad bite, I'm sorry. Still!" her tail swished, "Your bros got too close to my sis, and I don't like it!"

He looped around in front of her, and she started back a bit, but only backed up against his stomach, "Hey!"

He leaned in, and the next few minutes were a rapid, muted staccato of hoof-taps, her ears raised and lowered at points.

To the unlearned listener, it would've only been hoofbeats on the earth, but to her, it was a profound, insightful, loving lecture that conveyed his empathy and understanding, an apology that things were the way they were, and both their relations in those things, but encouraging a more positive viewpoint, and to not let messy, mushy love lives interfere with their own messy, mushy love life, and a final suave note that made her fizzle in the cat equivalent of a blush.

She sniffled, managing to grin at the same time, whiskers twitching, "Aw, Mo... I forgive ya, and I'm sorry, too." she nuzzled him a bit.

"I...might'a said love doesn't have anythin' to do with war," she admitted, as he playfully nipped at her ear.

He rolled his eyes, his long body circling her again, clipping out something again, and she giggled, embarrassed.

"Ooh, what you sa-aid!"

He didn't 'say' anything any more, and neither did she.

"Hmm, maybe 'sweet talk' ain't the only language that convinces me." she chuckled, and Monochromicorn tossed his head smugly.

* * *

Somewhere far away:

"Way too freaking BORED!"

* * *

Another somewhere far away:

"Our next decree as royalty is the demand for an increase in popsicle allotments!"


	18. Bet On It

It was getting to be a bit busier than the usual business at the Ice Fortress. For one thing, the Ice Queen hadn't really wanted to share any of her Supply with her guest, so she had to send some minions out to steal extra things. For another thing, she found she wasn't satisfied with her lair's current layout.

It looked...like...well, a clichéd, circumstantially evil bachelorette's pad. She decided that it was high-time to give up the stereotype of an evil, seductive sorceress and take on the role of a wicked, seductive, _single_...something. Anticlimactic, yeah, but that something would definitely be something much more awesome and different than what she was now. And she didn't want to be identified as the on-again-off-again well-meaning fiancée any more, either.

Part of growing into this new image was to change her surroundings.

For starters, the throne, it was a nice classic, but it was another stereotype she had to put behind her.

She was gonna keep the cavernous structure, though, that had a sort of natural class. Class, that was the key here.

She had it in spades, she knew, but _application _was vital, or reapplication.

Man, finding herself is a lot of work...

She frowned, looking at the catalogues and blueprints a minion had gotten for her. This was a pretty big step, she sometimes admitted to herself: putting aside her worn-out heart and taking on a new mantle. But she wasn't gonna drown herself in her Supply and let everything melt away or go out and destroy stuff at random like some catty witch, oh no, those days were over. She was gonna show them all, reinvent herself, show her sweet little ex-fiance what he was missing out on. And she was definitely not going to take him back, especially with the little setup he'd gotten himself into. She giggled, the barest flush gracing her face.

It made her _shiver _just to think about it! She thought this kind of stuff only happened in _romance novels! _

. . . Not that she was so lonely and dependent that she read _those_ things. . . Glorie liked them...for the perspectives. As of ten minutes ago.

Anyway, this was too good to pass up on. She was gonna be evil still, no question about that, but she was gonna be _reinvented!_

A whole new style, a grander Modus Operandi.

By her next appearance, everyone would see her as a new woman, a new villain, and _better_.

This was all going according to that wonderful _Idea _that glittered in her brain.

Now, to just get this dratted lair straightened out to fit the 'new her' before her _company_ came by. Hnn... What colors go well with ice?

Meanwhile, the minions had the scrying crystal on again. And had managed to find popcorn. And they were quietly cheering.

Or quacking, really, but close enough for them.

* * *

Fionna was quick, running forward with a desperate "_Aaargh!_", nearly squinting and struggling to keep moving with the punch despite the chorus _'ohsnapI'mgonnahitGumballohsnapI'mgonnahitGumball' _repeating accusingly over and over in her head. And she missed.

She blinked. She'd felt her fist touch flesh, yeah, but there'd been no resistance, no essential _hitting_.

She whirled around to face Gumball. Who. Was. _Pouting_.

He sighed, "Really, Fionna, it's not fair of you to put the minimal investment in your obligation. Play the game."

He smiled, beckoning, "Here, try again. Come at me, it's fine..." he reassured her. She was frozen for a moment.

She made an '_urk_' sound, and rushed again, keeping her eyes open and a fist at level with his gut but still _'ohsnapohsnapohsn—' _and missed. Again.

He'd swatted her fist away and twirled at the same time so she moved slightly past him, it was gentle, simple, yet strangely effective.  
She stumbled away quickly, staring.

"What the stuff was that?" she asked bluntly, and he smiled. "Pure diplomacy," he replied cryptically. "Try again."

She was more wary this time, circling carefully. She was stronger than him, more battle-skilled, definitely, so what was happening here?

"Thank you," he commented, idly turning in place along with her, "You're taking me seriously now, aren't you?"

"Th-this really isn't fair, GB." she mumbled, and he blinked, and she was still circling.

"It's only a game, Fionna," he reminded her, smiling, "And I only want to play. Why is that so bad?"

"You _know_ why!" she whined, faking a dart in, maybe scare him, but he didn't flinch.

He smiled, "Then let's get past that. Let's have _fun_, Fionna."

"This isn't fun!" she complained.

He laughed, "Let me convince you then!" and _he_ came at _her_.

* * *

The quacking had gotten to where it was interfering with her soul search and the search for good fabric cartels. She glared.

"What's got you all so worked up?" she snapped, moving to the growing crowd and peering over them at the crystal glass.

She blinked, and idly moved her way to the front, her minions submissively moving aside with only a few disgruntled squeaks.

She grinned maliciously, "Aw, there's my li'l traitor and his new _girl_friend. Together in the woods, too, how sweet, and..." she blinked again.

She watched, and still blinked, "What the hack?" she muttered, forgoing 'classy' at the moment.

For a moment the Fortress was silent except for the muffled noise that came from the crystal.

She watched some more, and without turning, "Gerry, Gunny, Ginny, Gaby, make more popcorn and raise a betting pool, STAT."

Stadium seats of ice rose from the floor to surround the crystal, which with a wave of her hand became full-screen and surround-view.

Such a pity about the poor sound quality. After this she was _totally _getting an audio installment!

She got front row seats, and made sure that Glorie took notes.

Yeah, this new lifestyle was already paying for itself! she thought gleefully, muffling a cackle behind eagerly clenched fists.

* * *

"Aaaagh!" Fionna yelled, backing away as things went very, very wrong in her personal universe, _"Aagh! Aagh! Aagh! Aagh!"_

Gumball's expression didn't change much, but a slight frown was pulling at his eyebrows.

At the slightest movement he'd made she'd backed up until she had literally backed _up _into a tree and was glaring at him from the top of it.

This was not going quite according to plan, he had to admit. It was a bit hurtful too, was it really this much of a bother to fight him?

"Fionna?" he called up, and didn't get much more than a rustling, "Fionna, I must _apologize_," he continued plaintively, waiting at the foot of the tree, "I didn't think that this would concern you so much, so how about we start with less of a surprise this time?  
Come down from the tree, please?"

". . . You're not gonna do anything skewy?" he heard the mumble.

He shook his head, "No, no skewiness, I swear. Here, how about I explain myself."

"Is it gonna involve science-y monologuing?"

He frowned, "I do no such—!" he paused, and sighed, "_Yes_, it is going to involve some slight explanation..."

Fionna paused, and thought it over. Explanations sounded a lot more like the Gumball she was familiar with.

The Candy Prince jumped when the adventuress landed in front of him in a scattering shower of leaves and twigs.

"I'm listenin'..." she mumbled, tugging a leaf from her hat, still in a ready stance. He smiled, knowing that smiling made people feel better, usually. That, and while things weren't going as he'd hoped, he was genuinely pleased she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Yet she still looked uneasy. Did he have something in his teeth?

* * *

Concerned quacking was arising, and the ante was on a momentary hiatus at this turn of events.

She was not pleased, "What're they sayin'? How come she's being such a scaredy cat? _Fight 'im like a female, you twit!"  
_

* * *

"I want to play the game," he reminded her, "And I want us to have _fun_. I'd been practicing, you know."

"Y-you have?" she interrogated, "How?"

"With secret weapons." he said, smiling. "For starters, I've developed a fighting style that suits me. It's literally called Pure Diplomacy."

When she still looked wary, he got into a stance, "Here, we both know you clearly have the strength advantages, right? The only problem I'm seeing is that this is an unfamiliar situation for you, an unfamiliar target."

She scowled, "And it's _you_."

He rolled his eyes, "I believe that was established. . . Hm." he blinked. "Hold on a moment."

Without another word, he took off his crown, "What do you know about diplomacy, Fionna?" he asked, hanging it on a branch.

"Wha...?" Fionna gaped.

"In any case, fight me, and then I'll explain it." he requested.

She pointed wordlessly to his head, gaping, then to the abandoned crown, then to him, then her fist clenched.

"WHATEVE-E-E-ER!" was the battlecry as she charged him.

Gumball _grinned_, _now _they were getting somewhere!

* * *

The Ice Queen let out a breath in a low whistle, "That must'a been _some _incentive..." she mumbled.

She blinked, "Wait, wait, why'd he take off the crown?!" She turned to her 'secretary', "Glorie, why'd he do that?!"

Glorie shrugged, still taking notes of the form and from what he could read off of the lips. This was going to be some report...

But the Ice Queen quickly forgot her confusion as things got real, "Woo, yeah, show her her place, sweetie!"

* * *

The hole that Marshall had picked at in the armrest had eventually turned said armrest into one big hole.

He was very ticked off, "How long's this kind of game gonna freaking _take?!"_

* * *

"Anticipation of the argument," he said, as she came up to him, fist ready, "Deflection of first point." and again he swatted her fist aside, but her other one was already coming up to him, "Neutral resistance to supporting point." and he caught her fist, but instead of trying to hold his ground or shove her back, he moved with it, and it brought her up closer than she expected, and he smiled down at her as she blushed,  
"And _counter-argument_."

She felt the ridge of his first knuckles hit her firmly in the place between her neck and shoulder, and then she fell like a rock. "Oof!"

She blinked, feeling strangely stunned, "Ow."

Gumball was immediately recoiling and hovering at the same time, "Agh, I didn't think that would actually work, oh my—Fi-Fionna, are you—?!"

She shifted her shoulder and blinked again, "Ow..."

Gumball also blinked, because she was smiling, "Fionna...?"

She grinned up at him, "OW!"

And then she shot up again.

* * *

A fresh bout of quack-cheering arose in the hall, but none louder than the shriek of the Queen, "THAT'S WHAT I'M _TALKIN'_ AB-O-O-OUT!"

She laid back with a laughing sigh as they got back into the excitement. Eh-heh-heh. Would've been cuter if he'd kissed her, maybe...

But hey, what was a lovers' quarrel or two? She munched on another handful of popcorn, grinning.


	19. Ante Up

"W-well, Fionna, I—_oh, dear_—certainly appreciate your—_woah!_—enthusiasm!" Gumball stuttered out, backing away and dodging the attempted grabs and tackles, while Fionna looked unnervingly concentrated. Fionna frowned, slightly hindered by the shoulder he'd hit.  
He was surprisingly agile.

"Why haven't ya—_hold __**still**_—done this stuff before?!" she growled, and ran into a bush for her efforts, with a slight shove from him.  
"Hey!" she laughed, whirling around and viciously grinning.

He laughed back nervously, "It never seemed appropriate to do so!" he explained, "Without—_ack!_—neglecting my role!"

Then he slid around until he was behind her, "But now it's appropriate," he told her, moving quickly to keep at her back as she began to panic, "All thanks to this game you invented, Fionna, I can test my limits. I'm very grateful to you for it."

She stopped suddenly and moved backward, hard. Slightly unprepared, he took the brunt of her shoulder to his chest, and stumbled back.

"Ouch!"

She grinned, moving to take advantage of his mistake, when she stopped, and her smile got gentler.

"Um..." her face flushed slightly, "Does that mean you're gonna thank me '_properly_', GB?"

He blinked, and then he gaped, and her blush covered the majority of her face, until her grin regained its viciousness.

"Gotcha!"

He was thrown into a tree, but oddly didn't mind as she ran off, screaming that she was going to usurp his throne.

He had the goofiest smile as he dropped out of the tree, using his long legs and light weight to catch up, "You most certainly are, Fionna..."

Ooh, the girl was devious...

He grinned, slightly pleased that their beloved heroine probably didn't have such a sweet side herself.

He hitched the satchel he carried over his shoulder, slightly fingering the clasp. Almost ready...

* * *

"What'd she say?! What'd she _SAAAY?!" _the Ice Queen squealed in tortured delight, her fists pounding enthusiastically on her knees.

She'd even tied her hair back to see better. _Dang_, she had to learn how to lip-read or install freaking sound to this thing!

There was renewed quacking in the crowd, currency changed wings and 'high-flippers' were exchanged.

Glorie continued to take notes, more engrossed than ever in this dictation.

The Sorceress chuckled ruefully, she'd never seen _that _expression on the Candy Prince's face.

And this thing wasn't even over yet!

* * *

Beemo hummed, trying to find the perfect lyrics for the Casual Tea Beemo's Side Anthem.

* * *

Marshall was busy playing his Axe, making a song dedicated to boredom and the flaws of an established figurehead monarchy.

It was going to be the most awesome ballad in decades to come, bringing tears and empathetic pain to any who heard it.

He'd make sure of it.

* * *

"You...realize...Pure Diplomacy...isn't my only...tactic...Fionna?" Gumball gasped out. He might've been fast, but his endurance was lacking.

He just had to get close enough, or maybe...

She was curious, but curiosity wasn't a good thing in some cases. Still, she was raised by cats. She glanced back while she ran.

He grinned, "You...don't even know...if you're going the right way...!"

She frowned, and veered a little, and he used this to cut through a bit and catch up slightly.

"Come now, take care...of the opposition...proper!" he chided, which lost some of its effect with him being out of breath.

She jumped up into a tree for safety, staring down at him as she stopped.

"All I need t' do really is run until you pass out." she pointed out, bluntly.

He shrugged, leaning against another tree for a moment, "We both know—_whew_—I'm not really a fighter, or a runner..." he conceded.

"I am a Prince, yes, a diplomat..."

Then he smiled that un-Gumball smile as he took enough breath, and it made Fionna uneasy.

"But I am also a scientist...and I am a _cook_..."

And he opened his satchel.

* * *

"EVERYONE GET MORE FREAKING POPCORN!"

* * *

Freakishly, a huge disk thing appeared and hovered a bit above the ground. Gumball hopped on it and it hovered, solid under him as he arced toward her, and he smiled up at her gaping face. She ran away quickly, _"Oh my glob what the stuffing barbecue **is** that?!"_ she babbled.

Gumball laughed, "Pie in the sky!"

And the game was on again.

* * *

"To war, to war, Beemonic legions!

For Casual Tea, reclaim my throne!

Think not of loss, nor burns, nor lesions,

Bring honor and triumph,

Make bare their bone!

And claim the trophy of delicious scones!

To war, to war, with Beemonic pride!"

Football sang delightfully in chorus, and Beemo was quite satisfied with their anthem.

Beemo looked up as something rudely disturbed its lovely leaf canopy.

Football got shy and left.

"Hello, my foe! Why are your bones not bared?" Beemo asked politely.

The foe said nothing. Beemo pouted as it was evicted from its beloved throne-in-the-hole.

"May you be cursed with bad fashion sense and eternal hiccups!"

* * *

"He's got a pie. A giant, flying one." the Ice Queen stated bluntly. All was silent in the 'stadium'.

"Huh." she turned to her secretary, "I have no idea, do you?"

Glorie shrugged, writing frantically. This was turning into a warfare report.

* * *

Explosions rocked the forest as Fionna ran, reminded slightly of the time when she'd been chased around by the Ice Queen.

But this was _Gumball_, who had been relatively harmless up until this point when he was suddenly not so harmless.

Another little red round ball scattered at her heels, and she jumped as she felt the big rush of air nearly throw her, a little crater in its place.

"'Cherry bombs'?!" she screeched, as she dodged another one, "You're freaking _serious?!"_

"Am I ever not?!" he laughed back.

It turned on him a bit when she swatted one _back_.

* * *

Ice Queen leaned forward, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands, staring with fascinated rapture.

"They're gonna have such an awesome honeymoon..." she commented, against all odds not the slightest bit jealous or envious for saying that.

It appears Fionna's weirdness was contagious, for the Candy Cutie had caught it, too.

Besides, she'd make sure she was the godmother, besides the fur-ball, too.

Glorie already had future writings in mind.

* * *

Well, his pie in the sky was out of commission, though the explosion had been quite tasty. He'd have to explore more on that recipe. He exchanged it for an espresso pill, which increased his energy and speed, though it made him slightly see double, but enabled him to get close enough to use the hot dogs. The pack nipped at Fionna's heels, nearly herding her simultaneously with their heat, and she screeched in fury, "How much stuff do you have in that freaking bag?!"

He chuckled giddily, espresso could be an addiction if he wasn't careful, "It's sapient pearwood fiber!" he commented, leaving it at that.

He'd explain some day. But he essentially had an entire feast in his arsenal. And here, Fionna was the perfect field test.

* * *

Marshall looked up as a shadow flickered into the gully.

He scowled, "It's about freaking time."

Then he blinked as he saw he had more company than expected.

"Hey, aren't you—?"

* * *

He had to be careful, the espresso was going to crash him soon. The aftereffects were slightly unpleasant. Molasses pools, cotton candy webs, meringue discs _en flambe_, ginger snaps, firecrackers, gumdrop bombs, snack attacks, and she was countering!

He grinned, very much impressed and proud of his heroine, and slightly ashamed and embarrassed of his enthusiasm, but only briefly, before he landed in front of her, bringing out something he was particularly proud of. It was a thing about the size of a soccer ball, looking like a baked good but it was practically dripping. Fionna halted in front of him, staring, and grinning like a maniac. She'd eaten a lot of what he'd thrown at her, and thrown a lot of it back at him. It appears Gumball wasn't the only one enjoying this, and he was happy for that. He held up the object in question, and she stared.

"What's that?" she asked, and he smiled. "Sponge cake." he answered, and _squeezed_ it.

* * *

Ice Queen blinked, and the quacking died down, and she leaned forward, frowning.

Was something wrong with the crystal?

She tapped it with an icy talon, frowning again.

Then she laughed. Stupid kids. The view was completely underwater.

* * *

He arose from the surface of the sugary water, coughing as the 'manmade' river rushed him and Fionna both away. He clung to a tree as the tide threatened to carry him off, and held onto Fionna, who was scowling.

"Was that your plan?" she growled, tugging them both up onto the branch.

He flushed a bit, "I might've misjudged the effect." he admitted. "Nothing a few alterations won't fix."

She picked at her clothes while they waited for the flood to ebb down, making a face at the growing stickiness of her clothing.

"Maybe we went a bit overboard with this." Gumball admitted.

"Yeah." Fionna sighed.

They both stared at the rushing liquid. It seemed like it was quite a lot.

* * *

Beemo was going to complain of its situation, but it was hard to voice complaints underwater.

* * *

Marshall scowled as he found himself suddenly in some sort of 'under the sea' scene.

It's a good thing nobody could hear him. Or read lips.

* * *

Unfortunately for Glorie, who was watching another smaller crystal, he could read lips.

The report was going to require some censoring.

Ice Queen stood up, stretching as it seemed the water wasn't going to go away for a while.

"Half-time!" she decided, and sauntered out. All that watching made her hungry.

* * *

**Author's note: **_To those of you who have the trivia knowledge to wonder: Hey, isn't Finn afraid of water? Yes, yes he is, but that's not **Fionna's** fear. But do not fret, my dear readers, we'll cover that little aspect in good time. Keep calm and carry coffee!_


	20. Story Time

For a while they just relaxed on the branch, saying nothing, slightly caramelizing in the sun while the water flow slowly ebbed.

Fionna looked over at him with a quirked smile, and he shrugged, grinning with embarrassment.  
She blinked, and then pointed to his crown-less head with an expression of shock, "Ah!"  
He patted his hair confusedly, then a look of panic crossed his face as they both looked down at the water.

"Aw-w..." he groaned.

Patting his shoulder briefly, Fionna took a breath and dove in, leaving the prince alone on their branch. He gaped, waiting anxiously, as the minutes passed, nearly preparing to dive in himself, before she resurfaced with a gasp. He quickly pulled her up, and she held up the dripping crown with a grin. He shook his head, also smiling, before taking it and putting it on his head, and they both nodded.

They sat there again, dripping, and then they looked up as a shadow passed overhead. Lord Monochromicorn snaked through the sky to land on another branch, bearing a sopping wet Cake and Beemo, who was carrying the rescued picnic basket.

Marshall hovered in shortly after, equally drenched. Cake and Marshall didn't look too happy.

Fionna nearly giggled at the image Cake made. She looked like a calico mop with a pair of eyes on top, whiskers and ears pitifully drooped.

"Forsooth, I did not expect such a meeting! We must set up a round table!" Beemo chirped.

Wordlessly, Marshall floated in front of Gumball, a blank frown on his face. They both stared. He swatted the Candy Prince firmly upside the head, once, before moving to another branch to wipe down his Axe Guitar. Gumball rubbed his scalp with a glare, but didn't protest. Fionna noticed that Marshall hadn't hit as hard as he could have, or would have, and that Gumball didn't seem as offended as he would be.  
She blinked, and then she spoke up.

"So, how'd ya both get found?" she asked the throne-people.

Marshall scoffed, and everyone learned he had hiccups, "The slinky (_hic_) sweethearts were be(_hic_)ing double-crossers. He (_hic, hic_) grab(_hic_) grabbed baby-bot and 'helped' her find (_hic_) me." He jabbed a disgusted thumb at Cake and Monochro, and Fionna glared.

"Ca-ake?!"

"Wha-at, everything was goin' all high-tide on us by that time anyhow!" Cake protested, wringing out her tail.

"Punish the traitors!" Beemo declared happily.

"Plus, to be honest (_hic_), I got (_hic_) I got bored. And drowned. And hic(_hic_)hiccups." Marshall growled.

"Can we just use a stu—(_hic_) a stu—(_hic_) _stupid_ **_flag_** to capture next (_hic, hic_) time? (_hic_) _Dangit!_"

"Where'd all that water come from anyhow?" Cake asked grouchily, and Fionna and Marshall both pointed to Gumball, who waved nervously.

Cake stared, eyes wide and pupils narrow, "Do I wanna know?"

"A mistake in calculating the absorbance-mass ratio in a specialized sponge cake. I can fix it." he replied simply.

Her whiskers twitched, "I don't wanna know." she grumbled, stroking her poor tail.

Fionna sighed into her hand. "Maybe we should use a bit less fighting spirit..." she mumbled.

"Why don't we just eat?" she decided, "We'll find a dry spot and then talk from there. That okay?"

Marshall raised a hand, "Next time no freaking (_hic_) figureheads!"

Gumball laughed.

Everyone agreed to regroup and eat.

The picnic was delicious, full of nice cakes and sweets typical from the Candy Prince. But Fionna noticed here and there that some things weren't as sweet as what he'd usually put in, but still enjoyable. And she also noticed that a decent part of the stuff had red in it.

She glanced at the Prince and the vampire while she ate, chewing thoughtfully. Cake was kind of right, they were a bit more friendly in some sort of way. Even when they still argued and annoyed each other it looked a bit more like friends arguing and annoying each other.

She frowned. Were they already friends and she just hadn't noticed? Well, it was nicer that they were getting along, in their way.

She ate some more, feeling a bit happier. This Casual Tea was a good idea.

Marshall proposed next time that they would meet at his place for 'tunes', and everyone decided to keep Fionna's game in mind for another day when she worked out a few more of the kinks. She smiled, and the water was gone by the time everyone was ready to go home.

She waited and then called Gumball aside, "Hey, GB?"

He blinked and walked over to her, "Yes, Fionna?"

She fidgeted, a bit uncertain, "Um, you... You fight good." she told him, and he smiled, "Well, thank you, but I'm sure that—"

She shook her head, "No, I really mean it, I had—I had _fun_." she continued, smiling, "Your Diplo-Fu thing and the weapon food were—they were awesome! And I'm very happy that you were able to do that awesome stuff and showed it to _me_ even with my crazy freaking out and...  
And I had _fun_!"

She fidgeted again, "And-and I wanted to thank you for that..."

Gumball smiled down at her and was about to express similar gratitude when she was suddenly closer, moving up on her toes.

He felt a warm, soft pressure on his cheek, one side of his vision taken up by a shock of blonde hair, for oh so very brief a moment...

She backed down quickly, her face so red that Marshall would have salivated, a small, sweet, panicked grin on her face.

_"SothasmythankyouokaygoodnightGB!"_ she babbled quickly, and ran off.

Gumball stared, gaping quietly, a hand ghosting over his 'thank-you', the unconscious smile spreading fit to split his face.

* * *

The Ice Queen made a face, practically feeling cavities form in her teeth.

She shrugged after she shook herself, "Eh, I guess that kind of relationship takes baby steps." she conceded grudgingly.

"What kind of relationship?" a svelte voice asked behind her.

She grinned, "Oh, y'know, the kind where boy meets boy, boys meet girl, and then—!" she blinked.

_"Holy barbecue stuffing!"_ she shrieked, and the penguins had the foresight to scatter before a veritable glacier of ice came down to crush the stadium—and the scrying crystal and its plinth—out of sight, and therefore, out of evidence. The Ice Queen winced in the back of her mind, but the loss of the crystal offered the opportunity to get a new one. With sound!

She turned around with a nervous grin as amiable as a shark, "Harry, honey! When'd ya get here?!"

"I wasn't here for too long, if that's what you were wondering. I didn't see what you didn't want me to." the demon said calmly, smiling, snake eyes unblinking. The Sorceress caught the vestiges of a wicked portal made of cursed soul residue fading into the nearest wall, and made a face. Evil ectoplasm crud was a bugger to scrape out of ice.

"I like what you're doing with the place," Harriet commented as she gazed around, looking sleek in her ponytail and suit, and Simone grumbled to herself at being caught in 'lounge-wear', "I see where you're going to need a few renovations, but I like the big picture."

Harriet turned her ever-present smile on her 'friend', "Now, before we reminisce, what's the big scoop on my li'l anklebiter?"

The Ice Queen frowned, and then grinned, "This requires drinks!"

An icy lounge area was gouged out in a second, and a few minions tossed some furs and pelts down while another barista began to stock the sudden minibar. The Lady of Evil finally blinked, before politely accepting a glass of something green and glowing.

"You mean _business_, don't you, dear?" she said, smiling.

The Ice Queen threw herself down on a couch, toasting her friend with an easier smile, "I most certainly do."

The women took their seats, and indulged in their version of 'girl-time'.

* * *

Marshall grinned with patiently amused confusion as Gumball spazzed out like a fangirl.

"Sie küsste—sie küsste mein Gesicht! Sie küsste mich! Auf den—auf den ersten Blick! Fionna küsste mich auf die Fresse! Sie dankte mir!" he babbled in German, grinning like a maniac while pointing to his cheek.

"Okay, I got 'Fionna' out of there, somewhere, and 'thank you'." Marshall said, laughing. Gumball was too hyper to be frustrated.

"The plan!" the Candy Prince proclaimed, "Oh-h, the plan is _progressing_, Marshall! She—" he pointed to his face, excitement taxing heavily on his vocabulary, "I gave her a 'thank you', once, Marshall, and _she thanked me in kind!" _

Marshall peered at the pink man's cheek, playing dumb, "What kind of thank you?" he asked with a grin.

"A. Kiss. On. The. Cheek." Gumball said slowly, the biggest smile pulling at his facial muscles.

"Which one?" Marshall asked, and Gumball pointed again.

Marshall leaned in to kiss in the same place.

Gumball jerked back, "Wha?!" he whined, acting as if the vampire had erased the trace of Fionna.

The vampire chuckled, "Ever heard of 'indirect kissing', Bubba? Now it's like she kissed me, too." he purred.

"How mature." the royal grumbled.

Marshall sighed, "Ah-h, I have some catching up to do, don't I?"

Gumball quieted down, and they both looked at each other.

"Don't worry," the Candy Prince assured him, "Neither of us will overshadow the other."

"Oh? I was worried I'd overshadow _you_." Marshall winked.

Gumball rolled his eyes, still rubbing his cheek with mixed affection.

The grin slowly came back in all of its ridiculousness.

He was making a note: huge success!

* * *

Fionna rolled around in her bed, muffled by her pillow.

_"Blarghrfrblnngnnrr!" _

She just _had _to go and do that and be a dope and then run and how was she gonna face the guy after thi-is?!

Why did she do tha-a-a-at?!

_Why-y-y-y?!_

. . .

She stopped to think about it, and take a breath, and thought of it again, and blushed.

She repeated the process.

_"Blarghrfrblnngnnrrr!"_

And much of the rest of the night was spent in repetition of this process.

The dreams were not much better.


	21. Lulling, Luring, Listening

Fionna waited, breathing slowly, deeply, nervousness wrinkling her face as the Rhinostone charged at her, its glittery horn looking quite sharp in the sunlight. She couldn't dodge now, it'd taken her ages to get it to run at this angle. Too soon, and it'd change course, too late, and, well...

She tensed, and then jumped, "Cake, net it!" she hollered, leapfrogging the behemoth, and her sister flared up from behind where she'd been.

Cake's feet and hands stretched to wrap around the trees, her body bending at the Rhino's charging, and she curled around it with a growl, making sure its feet couldn't touch the ground. If it couldn't step off anything, the lug was safe to be around.

"Oof! S'got quite a temper on it." she hissed, bulging awkwardly where the beast tried to get out.

"Ow! _Ow-ow-ow_, get the freakin' sleepy stuff already, girl! OW!"

Fionna got the capsule, twisting it and hearing the _hiss _of the sleepy stuff escape, throwing it into the gap Cake gave her.

"Gah, don't get _me_ with that!" Cake protested, closing over the Rhinostone, sleepy stuff and all.

Soon its stomping about slowed down, and then stopped, and Cake slumped in relief over the lump.

"We go-o-ot it...?" she slurred, oozing into her true shape. Fionna nodded, smiling as she caught her sister, "We got it."

"Alright, woo... Points for us... I'mma gonna take a catnap no-o-o-ow..."

"Oops." Fionna muttered quietly, and then Cake shrunk down to pocket-size, and Fionna carefully tucked her under her hat.

"Oi, didja get the beastie?" the Zoo Prince asked, popping out from behind a rock.

"Got her." Fionna called back, patting the sleeping Rhinostone on the horn.

"I can help you fix the fencing, but I'm not sure how we'll get her back in."

"No worries, sheila, got some handlers free for work now!" he said, smiling. He looked a bit like a human, but with orange skin, brown-green hair, and a pith helmet permanently attached to his head, looking a bit like a mushroom, a gold crown painted/carved around it to show his royalty. It was very solid, and probably one of the strongest things around, like a shield on his head, and he quoted, able to protect him from 'savage cocoa nuts, bush bears, saddle lights, and more than one lightning strike'.

True to his word, more orange-skinned handlers, the Zoo Kingdom's equivalent of soldiers, came up with a cart to put the Rhinostone on.

"That's one babe in the woods taken care of," the Zoo Prince sighed in relief, "Lovely Reena there's gonna have some li'l ones, so the time'll get her a bit ornery. Dad would have my helmet if he knew she got out. Thanks to you, all's well. Now..."

He glanced at her, grinning, "I could take care of another babe in the woods myself, now, eh, sheila? All that dodgin' looked tirin'! I'm of a mind to get you some good grub as thanks. A proper meal at my Dad's. Whaddya say?"

Fionna smiled at him, blushing a little, but shook her head, "Not today, Augie, but I'll keep it in mind, thank you."

His grin faltered a bit, but he laughed, "I guess a hero's job is never done? Well, alright. Keep it in mind, but keep me in mind, too!"

He winked, and she laughed, waving, before she ran off to do more heroics, adventures, whatever would happen next.

The Prince sighed as she was out of sight, smiling a bit more wistfully, "Heh, there's one beaut of a creature that'll never go in a Zoo..."

* * *

Fionna felt a bit guilty: heroes were supposed to accept 'thank-you's' and stuff as a matter of principle.

Lately it felt like she'd been taking a lot more IOUs than usual, doing one thing and moving quickly to the next.

Maybe the fact that whenever she thought of 'thank-you's' she now thought of things heroes shouldn't think about.

It bugged her, and it also bugged her that she was technically 'avoiding the problem'.

She'd kissed Gumball. On the face. And hadn't really seen him directly since.

Because she didn't really know how to act.

And now she felt like an idiot and a jerk and she didn't want Gumball to see her look like a face-kissing idiot, but she didn't know what to do or who to talk to without looking/feeling like an idiot or freaking out. Cake would freak out, and make her feel worse and she'd feel like an idiot!  
(She _really_ didn't want to have another Awesome Ninja Outfit of Shame incident.)

She could...talk to Marshall, maybe? Not tell him that she kissed Gumball's face, but that she did something embarrassing.

He already knew her at her worst (heck, he knew what happened when he treated her like an idiot: a good beating-up!) so he was probably the best person to talk to (indirectly) about her problem. He'd give her a miraculous solution, and then she could face Gumball like a mature heroine without blushing or babbling or freaking out! She nodded firmly. That would work!  
She saw no way in which this perfectly logical series of events could possibly fail!

* * *

She paced nervously in front of his cave, clenching at her hat nervously but gently to avoid disturbing the sleeping Cake.

There were _so_ many ways this series of events could possibly fail!

Marshall could laugh at her, or give her bad advice, or tell on her to Gumball, or Cake could wake up, or the Ice Queen would come around and see how much of a freaky spaz Fionna was and defeat her through sheer psychology powers!

"Is there a reason you're pacing a moat at my doorstep, Fio?" she heard him ask above her, and she froze with an 'urk'.

. . . How does a guy who plays _rock music _all the freaking time get the jump on people?!

"Wasnothin'somethin'stupidnotworthanyofyourtime! Gonnagobyes'rry!" she mumbled, scrambling out of the moat she had indeed paced.

"Woah-ho-_ho _there, Fionna!" he laughed, catching her up by her backpack, and she uselessly trotted at air, whining.

"I just got a free moat, gotta give a 'thank you' somehow, huh? Come into my office, babe!" he chuckled.

Against her will, he flew back inside, dangling her protesting self along.

The way he said 'thank you' somehow made her flush. Did—he didn't _know_, did he? _Did_ he?!

He sniffed about a little bit before setting her down on his roof, and he floated next to her.

"Cat in your cap?" he asked, pointing at her hat. She nodded, pressing a finger to her mouth cautiously.

He nodded, but was still grinning, playing a soft, lullaby-like tune on his guitar.

For some reason this didn't make Fionna feel much better.

"Now..." he continued quietly, smiling at her, "What'd ya wanna talk to li'l ol' _me_ about?"

Fionna swallowed.


	22. Lessons Learned, Mischief Managed

The Ice Fortress echoed softly with whimpering, babbling, and the clink of glass against glass and ice.

"And-and I know ib seebs lige...lige a good ibea adda dime... I bink 'Hey grade, thid id a good dime do be by own woman!'" the Ice Queen sobbed into the Lady of Evil's shoulder, slurred by drink and depression, crown tilting askew, her tears freezing on the most-likely expensive fabric, having gone through much of the mini bar, "Bud den I thing id-id nod sho grade ed by hard's a big med ed I dunno whadda do wid bydelf eddy _bo-o-ore!_"

Harriet patted Simone's head steadily, smiling blankly at the distant wall, with mixed blessings being able to understand 'blubber'.

"He fid-fixed by hard, my heart, yew dough," the Sorceress continued to sniffle, peering at the drops in her shot glass.

"Buttercup la—_sniff_—_put_ a-a couple of cast-castanets in dere when 'e did... I god interesded in flamingo—_flamenco_—fangs do that, think of him every dime I feel lige dancin'..."

She frowned in disappointment as the glass emptied, and tossed it over the couch to let it shatter on the ice.

"I know I shed I wad over it," she slurred, leaning on the demoness.

"Bud id hard... I used—I think of him a lod—used to tie him up on dat throne..."

"Mmhm," Harriet noted, looking at the smashed remnants of the chair in question, "And long story short, he, er, 'dumped' you for my son?"

"Sou'ds weird when ya put it like that," Simone grumbled, "But yeh..."

"And now my son, and his 'consort', are pursuing that girl..." Harriet observed, casually sipping her beverage.

The Ice Queen suddenly giggled, "I know righ'? Is like a roman-nev...row-row-romani-knob—rev? Red? Knobble? . . . Ish like a love story..."

Then she started sobbing again, "Bud nod for _me-e-he-hu-uh-hu_..."

"There, there," the Demon Queen cooed absently, patting the weeping witch's head again.

The Ruler of the Nightosphere blinked, "What you need, darling," she decided, "Is _closure_."

"I. . . _-sniff-. . ._ I-I do?" she sniffled.

"Yes," she purred, "I find that assassins or good-old-fashioned curses work quite well for the occasion."

The Ice Queen thought it over, "Nuh-uh," she sighed, "I still wand the love shtory to word out..."

"Hm, suit yourself. You always were a fool for sentiment..." her friend sighed.

She smiled, "You've given me a lot to think about, milady. But let's focus on _you_. I'll help you find your closure, dear Simone."

The demoness snapped her fingers, and another soul-fueled portal crackled against the wall.

The Ice Queen scowled darkly from behind the couch as a few shorty demons filed out, as short as her own minions.

"You've got a good start on decoration," Harriet conceded, "But other things to consider are wardrobe, occupation, and hiding the hatchet..."

". . . Don't you bean 'burying'?" the Ice Queen asked, after thinking it over.

"Nope. Hatchets are useful things. Never know when they'll need bringing out again." Harriet told her.

* * *

"GB's been missing out on you, you know." Marshall told her after a short silence, still strumming quietly.

"Oh..."

"Mmhm. He will see ya at the next Casual Tea, right?" the vampire asked.

"Yeah, yeah, he will!" she said, but the little stress marks around her eyes didn't hold this up.

He smiled so she couldn't see, "What's on your mind, Fifi?"

She didn't babble, like he expected.

"I... I did somethin' embarrassing, and I dunno how to not be embarrassed..."

"Embarrassing how?" he asked, his grin widening.

She was quiet.

He glanced at her, and saw her slightly turned away, and caught a flushing of _red _spreading on that cute li'l face.

_Hmmmm..._

"Did he embarrass ya?" he prodded again, playing slow, soft, and steady.

"No, no-no-no, I..." she was quiet to avoid waking up her sister, "I...feel like I...embarrassed myself...?"

"_Pfft_," he laughed, "After that Ninja act? I think that'd be hard to top."

"Bwuh, don't remind me..." she groaned.

He grinned, playing for a bit more, ". . . Was it that sissy-thank-you-face-kiss you gave 'im?"

This time she jerked up, "How'd—?!"

"Demon eyes, baby." he purred, widening them to show the red pupils and black scleras.

He nearly groaned aloud as he watched that red take over the whole of her face when she tried to hide it from him.

He bit his lip to hide his lengthening fangs.

_Bad Marshall, ba-a-ad... Ooh, but so very nice... _

"Really, what makes you think you're so bad if His Highness did it first?" he asked instead.

She fidgeted, "Because he just stared..." she mumbled, "It's okay if _he_ does it I guess because he's him, but I thought it'd be okay if I tried it, and I did, and he only stared, so I thought, that, well, I might not have been supposed to..."

"Ohh..."

So that was all? . . . Well, she _was_ a notorious little conclusion-jumper.

"So why did you do it?" he prodded, and watched that redness grow.

"Okay, okay, right, it's a 'thank you', forget why for now." he said quickly.

"But I can tell you for sure that GB did _not _think it was a bad thing."

"How do _you_ know?" she grumbled, still embarrassed, and he grinned.

"It's a bro-thing, trust me on this. Here."

He floated in front of her, easing on his smile, "Try it on me, that 'thank you', and I'll prove it's not a bad thing."

She stared at him, the red going up to her forehead and down her neck and under her shirt and—_bad, bad, **bad** Marshall!_

GB's voice chided him in his head.

He grinned to himself, it's not like he listened much to Gummy Bear anyway.

"Wha-at? What's good for GB's too good for me?"

"I-I need a reason to thank you..." she mumbled.

He tilted his head, tilting his cheek to her, "I listened to your troubles, haven't I? And I'm helping you out right now, huh?"

Then he floated back away from her, shrugging, "But I guess you're insecure and stuff, it's alright, can't expect mu—UH!"

She'd grabbed him by the front of his shirt to smash her face against his cheek, mouth awkwardly smooshing against him.

She backed away quickly, flush renewed and _blazing_, "Sorry that was stupid I—!"

"Oh, no, ya don't!" he snarled, grinning as his own hold on her shirt kept her in place, "What kind of a 'thank you' _was_ that, Fio? It's like _this_..."

He leaned in, feeling the heat and scent of her blood-flushed skin waft off her face, "It's careful..." he told her as he pressed a kiss in under her eye, "And _grateful_..." he muttered against that sweet, reddened skin, thinking that with just a bit of fang he could..._bad __Marshall_...

"And _nice_..." he grinned against her cheek, moving down a little, closing his lips to press them a bit more closely, a bit more firmly into that soft little face and the cute little dimple of flesh between the jaw and cheekbone.

He inhaled a bit indulgently...

_She smelled wonderful..._

He backed off after a moment, looking at her, "That's how. Try again."

She was staring blankly at him, as deliciously red as he'd ever seen her, and slumped forward more than leaned, cautiously pressing her own lips against his cheek, and he nearly purred as he felt the contrast of her warm skin against his own cool one, of her nervous breathing, of _Fionna_...

"And I am _happy_." he told her, letting her back off as he smiled. _So happy._ "Aren't you?"

She nodded dumbly, and he chuckled.

"Still feel stupid?"

She began to nod, but then quickly shook her head, still not speaking.

He was having too much fun with this chick.

"Problem solved, then! Thank yew very much!" he laughed.

"Er..." she started up, "About that..."

"Hm?"

"When I did the Ninja Thing of Shame," she started, "Why'd you kiss me, here?"

She pointed in-between her eyebrows, and he grinned.

"Wrinkles." he told her.

She frowned, "What?"

"Ah, see, right there!" he leaned in to steal another kiss there, another bit of indulgence.

"You keep frowning like that and you'll turn old early!" he told her, laughing.

"So I'll smooth 'em out, before we have a li'l ol' lady Fionna!"

He whooped as she attempted to tackle him, turning things back to normal, "Why you—!"

She managed to grab him, shoving him down by his shoulders, glaring and baring her teeth like an adorable chipmunk.

He grinned up at her, "Me what?"

Instead of getting punched though, she kissed him right between his own eyebrows.

"Thanks..." she mumbled, and he felt it against his skin.

He blinked. She got up and smiled at him as he floated quietly to her level, staring.

"I'm gonna go apologize to GB, thanks again!" she told him, quickly getting up and leaving the cave.

Then she poked her head in again and pointed at him, "That. That was the expression he had. But now I know it's okay. Thank you!"

Then she was gone.

He felt a light tingling in his forehead, on his cheeks, and somewhere in his chest.

He had to write a song. NOW.

* * *

Cake poked her head out from under the hat groggily, seeing they were on their way home.

"Whaddid I miss?" she yawned, and Fionna patted her.

"Not much." the human told her, smiling like a goof, the faintest touch of pink in her cheeks.

Then the pinkness faded a little as she blinked.

How did Marshall know that Gumball 'thanked' her _first_?


	23. Demon's Advocate

Gumball did not squeal, or flinch beyond blinking, and was very careful to not smile too much to show nerves or gape to show shock, and went over every precaution he'd concocted for this situation i.e. being stared at quite intensely by demon eyes while being pinned to a chair floating five feet off the ground.

"Fionna apologized to me earlier," he told the vampire calmly, "Thank you very much for talking to her."

"_We gotta get her now._"

He frowned then, "Marshall, no, we talked about rushing things."

"_Rushing nothing, we gotta have her **now**._"

"I have a metaphor to explain this, care to hear it?"

"Will it involve having Fionna?"

"It'll increase the chances."

The chair slammed to the ground, and Gumball grunted as the hands moved to pin his shoulders.

"We have a chance _now_, Gumball, she's shown signs to _both of us..._" Marshall Lee hissed, face disturbingly intent and blank.

Gumball scowled, "When someone says 'GO at 1', do you GO at 3?"

Marshall Lee finally blinked, and then backed off a little, "Tell me why we shouldn't."

"It's too early yet," Gumball explained, "She might be showing 'signs' now, but that's because she's still just learning what we're teaching. True, she is suddenly much more physically affectionate, but that's because we're 'teaching' her that such things are okay, and she's exploring this, as Fionna would. To make a definite move now would be like giving a final exam to someone just starting the class. It would put us back at square one, or worse."

"Give her a crash course? Cheat sheet?_ Fill in the freaking blanks?!_" Marshall asked, grinning, but still looking very intent.

When Gumball still looked disapproving, Marshall's grin went away.

"Tell me why we _should_." the vampire decided.

The Candy Prince scoffed, "Excuse me?"

"Play the demon's advocate, Gummy Bear," Marshall said, smirking, "For the sake of the argument."

Now the royal tipped back in his chair, thoughtful.

"Hmm..."

He crossed his arms, "Well Fionna is obviously more mature than she'd been some time ago, physically and mentally, and has had experience on the emotional level. She'd no doubt be quick to adapt to a sudden offer if it were displayed to her _convincingly_," Marshall Lee's low _growl_ nearly shut the prince up, "And," he continued heroically, "Moving at this stage would lay it out clearly that we _both _are offering equally, instead of gradually leading her to prefer one over the other. Essentially laying all our cards on the table." Gumball sighed, "And, yes, it would bring her to us that much sooner."

He heard Marshall's voice in his ear, and shuddered at the things he said.

"We could invite her over," the half-demon suggested, "Make another small tea party, just for the three of us, _just _for the three of us."

One hand with fingers nearly like claws tiptoed over Gumball's other shoulder, "And she'd be right here... She could be right here _tonight_, Bubba, and we'd tell her, show her, and then everything we talked about, thought about, would become something we could physically," a talon traced his cheek, "Personally," then his ear, "_Intimately_ **_grasp_**..."

"And if she rejects it?!" Gumball said quickly, slapping the hand away and getting off the chair to face him, showing no flush on his face.

Marshall stared at him from behind the chair, "How could she refuse such an offer~r?" he purred.

"Quickly," Gumball replied bluntly, advancing on the vampire, "Or gradually, eventually. She could be scared, hesitant, unsure, uncertain. Second thoughts can last well beyond a night or morning. What seemed nice in the nighttime can seem otherwise in the sunlight. We have to _seduce_ her, _attract _her. Not convince, or coerce. I don't want us to do something on a whim and struggle to maintain that whim, Marshall. I don't want a relationship based on regret. You said it yourself when suggesting this venture, that we won't have any 'heart-gut stomping drama junk'. So I will make _sure_ that we won't. So I don't want to take that chance."

"But _it could work!" _the King protested, his desperate snarl marring any smoothness his previous words had.

"It could," Gumball conceded, "Or it could not. But if you were really so sure it would work, you wouldn't have asked for _my _thoughts on it!"

"YOU'RE—!" Marshall finally lunged forward, his distorted face right in Gumball's, air hissing between his fanged teeth.

The harshness of the exhale gradually eased, and then Marshall's head slumped to Gumball's shoulder.

"I freaking _hate _your metaphors..." the vampire grumbled.

". . . I can safely assume you're not going to viciously overpower me in passionate frustration?"

"Huh? Yuh, I can do that later. . . I'm so freaking _tired_. . ."

Gumball patted his head, "Dare I inquire as to what brought _this_ about?" he asked.

". . . She kissed my face." he muttered into the man's shoulder, ". . . And she smells good."

"Ah. . ."

". . . Stop smiling."

"You can't see my face."

"I don't have to. Stop it."

"Alright, alright, stopping."

Gumball didn't stop, however, but smirked, turning his head to rub his face into the vampire's hair, "Anything I can do to _help_?"

Marshall Lee backed off quickly, the suggestion of darker skin on his cheeks, "You—I—gonna—write freaking song!" the vampire snarled.

He did, however, settle for a quick, expectedly vicious kiss before flying back out of the window.

Gumball smiled to himself, before settling into blankness as he mulled it over.

What did it say about him when he found a 'threatening' Marshall Lee both enticing, frightening, and adorable all at once?

"This courtship is going to murder us." he decided with a sigh.

* * *

You make the freaky beat in my beast blood

K-k-k-keep up

With the-the-the simple little sweetest little

Ways you move,

This can't really be so easy

When those little ways you tease me

Might feel quite like the reasons that you _should_ _be_.

_Rrrgh...! _

You can't really honestly be all that innocent

While expressing all that freaking sudden sentiment!

'Cause it really doesn't leave for me

Much give for me to be a freaking

Gentleman-_uh_, FIONNA!

_. . . Fehhh. . ._

Oh, Fionna,

Really,

How can I trust in angels

When they're such freaking temptations to a

Demon?

Oh, Fionna,

It's really not so easy,

If I read in all the cues and clues

You're beaming.

Oh, Fionna,

Oh, I know I said you were

A transparent girl

And that anything you thought of was crystal clear.

But, oh, Fionna,

Bad little girl,

What kind of language are ya thinking here?

_. . . Dang. . ._

You can't really be so freaking Glob-darn innocent

When expressing all that sweetly-scented sentiment!

'Cause it really doesn't leave for me

Much reason or room for me to be a

Gentleman-_uh_,

Fionna...


	24. Spark

"Urgh..." the Ice Queen sat up, dislodging several rolls of cloth with colors that she knew she liked, and realized she was covered in measuring tapes, a scrubby nightgown, and not much else. She stared down at herself.

"Good _afternoon_, Simone." the Lady of Evil said from an icy coffee table.

The Sorceress scowled, "Si-who?"

Then she blinked, "Afternoon? Aww, snap, I was melting, wasn't I?"

"Not too badly." Harriet replied calmly, sipping at something that steamed.

"Urgh... Hey, you know about your brat, now, right?"

"Yes, but I simply needed the info for the moment. _He's_ not high on my priorities right now."

"Huh, okay..."

She got up off her couch, brushing herself off, and glanced with not-so-slight envy at her friend.

How did someone look so..._collected _in the mornings?! Afternoons?! Whichever?! "Okay, how do you do it, Harry?" she asked, slumping into another seat, and a penguin minion quietly brought her iced coffee and a fluffy blue robe.

"Do what?" Harriet blinked.

"Be..." she gestured vaguely with blue claws, "_You! _Classy, scary, _evil!_ You're in your gramma _PJs_ for crying out loud and _I_ feel underdressed!"

"Ah..." the demoness smiled at the witch, "Style, my dear. Style and centuries of grooming self-confidence and a smile in the boardroom. And you don't look so bad yourself." she gestured to the robe, "You, too, have a presence, one you need to bring out more. I'm this way," she gestured to her own state of dress and posture, "Because I'm comfortable in my carapace. But you're wanting to metamorphose," her smile widened to show sharp, pointy teeth, "You'll be shedding skins, dear, so you're not sure what you are now. It's like maturation again. It's completely normal. Right now you're _itchy_, changing, hungering..."

She propped her elbows on the table, oily-slick hair falling forward a bit, "And I can help with that."

The Ice Witch by that time had leaned back a bit, an expression of hesitant distaste on her face, "You're freaking creepy, girl." she grumbled.

"Pot, kettle." Harriet snorted, and plucked up a clipboard from a passing demon minion, "We'd discussed some of the process already."

"We did?" the Ice Queen asked.

"Oh, yes. Most extensively. You agreed wholeheartedly."

"I did?"

"Your signature's right here, darling. I thought the little hearts were a sweet touch."

"There's no _way _that I—!"

She squinted at the dotted line, ". . . Well, stuff it. I really hate me."

"No, Queenie," Harriet purred, "When we're done, you'll _love _you."

The Ice Queen shivered, privately regretting the downsides of capturing the Lady of Evil's interest.

* * *

Fionna was seriously trying the mojo thing this time. She had the white pajamas on again (freshly clean and nice-smelling and soft) and was sitting on a rug in her room, legs crossed and hands on her knees.

She'd locked the windows this time, and had hammered planks over the chimney flue.

Cake was on a date, no missions were available, so she now had all day to explore this thing.

And she had no idea what she was doing.

She supposed that now she didn't have to worry about zombification, she could use this time to...think about stuff.

Or, mostly, to think about boys.

She didn't let the frown she wanted to frown show on her face, and tried to keep everything inside where only she could see it.

She thought she'd given up on boys, or rather, given up on them as things to be more than pals with.

Especially after FP... Bad thought!

Anyway...

Gumball was...well, her pal, someone she rescued a lot, and he was cool. And had somehow made himself more cool. He became fun!

A chuckle escaped as she remembered the sky pie thing. _That _had been fun.

And Marshall liked to mess with her head, but lately he'd been a bit more 'demon-y' than usual, was a bit more heavy on the flirting stuff, and she wasn't sure what to think about that. And she'd been changing too, so whatever weirdness had been going around was obviously contagious.

She felt her face heat up as she thought about what she did. About what they did.

Her face would heat up, her heart-guts went _flip-flop_, thinking about boys, and she really didn't _want_ to know why that happened.

She was the hero, the adventurer. She wasn't someone who should have those bad thoughts, those bad dreams.

She opened her eyes and looked around the room, and finally frowned.

It was too small to think in here.

She left a note for Cake, just in case, and left.

* * *

Prince Gumball frowned as he tried to concentrate on his work. Tried being the operative term.

". . . Marshall Lee, what are you doing here?"

"Fio wasn't home."

"It's _daytime_, and you said you'd leave me be today. You said you had plans today."

"I did. But Fionna wasn't home."

"Can't you go someplace else?!"

"And I lost my hat."

"Really."

"Yup. And she left a funny note, here, look."

"You _broke into her_—?! You know what, of course you did, why should I be surprised?!"

"C'mon there were planks and junk stuck in the chimney, so I thought I'd be a good neighbor and clear 'em up. Anyway, note, look!"

". . . _Dear Cake, gone out thinking, will be back in time for food, hope you had fun with L.M., Fionna_. Marshall..."

"I know, who goes _out _for _thinking? _What's she thinking about?"

"Marshall..."

"Think it's about us?"

"Marshall, this note was for _Cake_, wasn't it?"

". . . I guess."

"Which she left for _Cake_, right?"

". . ."

"Which you are now holding in front of my _face_, yes?"

". . . I'mma go return this."

"Good. And I do believe you tossed your hat into the sweet grass patch under my window."

"Jeez, good to see you, too!"

Gumball waited until he saw that shadow leave the premises, and sighed.

Now, Fionna seriously thinking wasn't a bad thing per se, and not unheard of, but for her to go 'out of her way' to think, well...

This would need more methods of insurance and investigation.

Things began to take a subtle turn for the worse when he'd gotten a report on spontaneous fire damage near the woods.

_Very **significant** _fire damage.

He'd have to wait for further reports on the seemingly intentional pattern of the damage, and chew his nails in the meantime.

* * *

She'd wandered a lot, which meant that instead of thinking, she focused on an absence of thinking, to clear her head.

Hiking turned into climbing, which turned into falling, which turned into swimming, which turned into climbing again, and then walking.

There wasn't any goal in mind to this, no monster to fight or special object to recover, just to move.

And it made her happy.

She made it to a wheat-oat field, and stopped. Big swathes were still brown and growing, but the air smelled burnt, dry, and toasty, and she saw distant smoke pillars further away, moving here and there like people were running with torches.

She'd better go see if there were any people out there, and if they were okay.

As she got nearer to the place where the stuff burned, she heard rustling, and had a hand on her sword-hilt, just in case.

Then she ran into a fire lion cub.

She stared as it blinked up at her and 'mewed', crackling gently at the edges while its paws kneaded into the charcoal its flames made.

It purred, and then more fiery things appeared in the clearing, a whole pride of them.

She was backing away slightly, when a different fiery thing rose over the others.

Her jaw fell open.

The Flame Prince smiled.

"Hello, my princess."


	25. Steamed

"What are you doing here, FP?" Fionna finally asked him.

They'd found a rock to sit on and spent some time just chatting.

Soon they were just watching the fire lion cubs swat at embers, while the bigger ones just laid around.

"I am an envoy for the Fire Kingdom, now, and was forming my message to indicate so," he said, smiling, and then gestured to his pride, "And I've officiated my companions as my escorts. I'm not the Flame Prince anymore, Fionna."

He seemed a bit brighter in his flames as he sort of smiled, sort of smirked, "Now I'm the Flame _King_."

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Send me a list of the damages," Gumball said tiredly, "And I'll arrange to reimburse the citizens accordingly. You have other news?"

"Yes, Your Highness," the Peppermint Maid said, while she ticked off the list, "It was not an act of nature, nor one of war, at least not that our symbologist could decipher. We found some flying citizens to draw the pattern of the damage, and, well, these were the best versions..."

Gumball stared at the two crinkled papers he was presented with. One was clearly the insignia of the Fire Kingdom, an assumed heralding.

The other? The other was a _heart. _A big heart surrounding something that looked like a rabbit. His stare was quiet and blank.

". . . Don't let that second pattern remain, not even the ashes. You may go." he told her calmly, and she curtsied.

"Yes, Your Highness. I'll go inform the farmers."

Gumball nodded, and after she left, he looked out the window, and scowled.  
He found a file in his desk, and quickly flipped to the part labeled 'Obstacles'.

". . . Undisciplined flame-brain. . . Where is Marshall Lee when I need him?"

* * *

. . .

* * *

"—and then they made me their chief." Marshall finished up.

Cake clapped politely. Monochromicorn wasn't looking too pleased though.

"Nice story, fang-face," Cake said, "But really, this is 'Me and my Mo time', what're ya doin' here?"

"Fionna had a message and junk." Marshall said, waving it around, carefully avoiding the subject of how he got it.

"Uh-huh." Cake grumbled, stretching out a paw to snag it.

She read it over, and while she did, Monochromicorn glared pointedly at the vampire.

"Peace, freaks!" he grinned, taking the hint, and flying away.

He went drifting with the wind for a while, but then smelled something burnt, and saw smoke in the distance, and blinked.

Maybe someone was having a barbecue or a riot. He should check it out.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Okay, first off, who burns stuff for a message, dude?

Two, _ohmywhatthestuffingbarbecueIdon'tevenknow—KING?!" _she finished off with a squeal.

He nodded, grinning, "First, princess, it's traditional, at least among my people, to make a _peaceful_ show of power when greeting, to be both polite and leave out any misunderstandings as to our status. Two, is a bit of a long story."

The Flame Prince, the Flame _King_ stretched back out on the rock, yellow skin glowing, and Fionna flushed slightly.

He wasn't wearing his normal outfit, or that loincloth (glob, that'd been something), but a cross between the two.

Sort of like those pictures GB had shown her of the stuff Egypt Kingdom people had worn.

"I decided to return from my exile, and claim my place." he told her, smirking up at the sky, "It had been a good rebellion. Enough of my people had tired of my mother's laughably paranoid, cowardly rule, and were ready for the dying flames of the monarchy to be rekindled."

One of the flame kits pounced on him, and he tussled with it, laughing and growling.

"_Rahawr!_ Oh, we rebelled, didn't we?! Yes, we did! Yes, we did!"

Fionna laughed at the playing, even as she backed off a little to avoid getting singed.

It tumbled off him when he 'lost' and he rolled over onto his stomach, chuckling, "Ohh, anyway, I executed those who hadn't surrendered, and I have my mother locked up in a lantern now. I have whoever guards it tell her she's a coward while she sleeps. Hack if I know why, but it seemed a fitting fate."

Fionna's laughter was a bit more nervous and strained at that, but she decided not to comment on it.

"You've been busy." she settled to say, tucking her legs into her chest.

He nodded, his flame-hair crackling, "Mmhm. And now I'm here to inform the other Kingdoms of the Fire Kingdom's change. I hope to increase connections between our fellow Kingdoms, and make my own Kingdom more aware of this pretty world of yours.  
I hate seeing the place stagnate."

He sat up, his thumb rubbing across his forehead jewel, and the skin around his face turned more of an orange.

"And I...wanted to see _you_, princess..."

Ah, there it was.

She flushed, and the Flame King stammered, "J-j-just wanted to, you know, catch up, say hello, and..."

He faced her and leaned in a bit, "And maybe...reminisce...?"

She backed up, both from the discomfort and from the heat, "Uh-h, I, aw, no, _FK_..." she began sadly.

"No, our-our elements won't conflict anymore, we can—!" he told her quickly, smiling again a bit frantically, still moving forward.

"I learned how to—I can stabilize my _matrix _now, Fionna!"

She could feel her skin baking both with her flush and his heat as he crawled towards her, "Let me _show _you..."

She stammered without words, panic of all types causing her to back pedal quickly, and then a shadow fell over them.

"Aw-w, isn't this just _swee-eet?_" they heard a voice chuckle, yet it didn't sound happy, or even very amused.

They both looked up at Marshall in his sun hat as he leered down at them, demon eyes glowing under the shadow of the brim.

Fionna at this moment fell off the rock with a squawk, and both men called out in surprise.

"Just squash me now..." she mumbled into the earth. So much for thinking time.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Long time no see, matchstick." the vampire growled, and the fire elemental's jaw gritted, before he quickly adopted a blank smile, "Hello, shadow-scum. Why are you out of your closet? Ran out of children to terrify?"

"Naw," Marshall chuckled, "I just _found_ one!"

The Flame King suddenly flared, "You _dare—?!_"

Trumpet music interrupted them as a Candy Kingdom messenger tumbled through the wheat field.

"The-the—_whew_—Prince of the Candy Kingdom acknowledges your—_hah_—your entry, and invites you to-to speak at his palace..."

Then he glanced around as Fionna got up, spitting out a few wheat stalks.

"And he hopes your arrival was peaceful." he finished up quickly.

Marshall's grin was a rictus, baring fangs, "Yeah-hah, we're all _cool_, aren't we, buddy?"

"Oh, yes, I am filled with the positive warmth of welcome..." the young King ground out, crackling at the edges.

"_Oh, I bet you are..._" Marshall hissed at him under his breath, unable to be heard by the heroine.

"I'm gonna go take a bath." Fionna spoke up bluntly, brushing herself off, "I'll join you all later. Tell GB I say hi, Marshall!"

"Will do, _babe_." Marshall said, smiling, while the Flame King slightly flinched at the word 'bath'.

Fionna smiled at him, a bit strained, "See you later, uh, Flame King."

He nodded, with a very slight smile, "Princess."

She grinned nervously, and then ran.

The two Kings exchanged glares before following the messenger, while they in turn were followed by the flame pride, who were followed by helpful citizens with handy fire extinguishers and spicy snacks for the incendiary felines.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna sat on the floor in the bathroom, hair free of the hat and tangled in snarls which began to fall apart on their own.

Her face was flushed and red, her knees were curled to her chest, and her heart was heavily thumping inside.

Inside her mind was fuzzy, sharp, and everything inbetween.

She thought about this carefully. Or tried to, and gave up.

This was _so _not good.


	26. Smoulder

"_This is ba-ad, Gummy Bear..._" Marshall sang from above. He'd managed to lose Flame King and his posse to report to GB.  
The hothead was too busy greeting everybody still.

Gumball scowled, "I heard you, _Marshy_..."

A hiss was his reply.

He sighed, "Marshall, really, they'll be coming any moment. Do pretend you have some semblance of self-control.

This is in all respects a diplomatic visit, not a personal threat. At least, not intentionally."

Marshall glared down at him from where he was pacing on the ceiling.

"He's ahead of us, Bubba." he snarled, "You and me? We make her heart do a cute little skip when we try hard enough. But _him_?"

He hung down in front of Gumball, fangs bared, "The moment that _brat_ made a teensy li'l move on her, her heart _throbbed_..."

Marshall leaned in, "Do you know what that...that _pounding_ heartbeat was freaking_ like_ for me, GB? _And it was for **him**._"

"It stands to reason," Gumball told him, his voice even, "That we can't blame Fionna for her actions, or reactions. They've had a 'history', a very strong one. I'd hoped that it would stay in a closed book, but it seems our fiery little friend wants to produce a sequel."

"And we're gonna _let_ 'im take _our_ monstor?" Marshall asked.

"Of course not." Gumball smiled, "But we'll need to regroup before we take any definite action."

"Oh, I'll _definitely _be taking some act—!"

The door suddenly opened with a creak, and Marshall retreated to a relatively decent distance.

"Your Highness," Peppermint Maid announced, and then glanced at Marshall, and smiled, "Your Highness_es_," she corrected.

"His Majesty the Flame King is in the Pastel Room, and seeks audience. Fionna the Human will be arriving shortly."

"Thank you, we'll be right there." the Candy Prince replied, nodding. "Please divert Fionna's arrival. I leave the timing to your judgement."

"Of course, Your Highness."

He mouthed 'later' to Marshall Lee, who grumbled before following them out.

"Want my help with that diversion, missy?" the vampire asked the peppermint, smirking.

She smiled sweetly up at him, "That won't be necessary, Your Highness, but thank you."

"Urgh, don't call me that." he scowled, tongue stuck out.

She nodded patiently, "Of course, Your Majesty."

"Or that."

"Your Excellency?"

"Or _that_..."

"King Abadeer?"

_"Lady!" _he snarled, making a vicious face, and she laughed, not scared.

"Forgive my impudence, Mr. Lee." she soothed.

Still smiling sweetly, she said, "Please try to keep your _teeth_ away from His Highness Gumball during the Flame King's visit."

"I'm not gonna bite him, or that lump of charcoal, if that's what you're worried about." he grumbled, and her white eyes stared.

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Mr. Lee," she chuckled, "_I_ know what I'm worried about."

He stared as she led them along, and swallowed.

She knew about his and Gumball's 'acquaintanceship', but had made it clear to the vampire king, constantly, that she didn't approve.

"Stupid candy-centers," he growled to himself, "_Never _as sweet as their sticky li'l outsides. Tuh, creepy cavities, li'l -_grumble, grumble_-..."

* * *

. . .

* * *

The Pastel Room was well-lit from the expansive windows and light colors, and now smelled slightly of burnt sugar.

"Prince Gumball of the Candy Kingdom," the Flame King greeted from near a window, "I am pleased to have made your acquaintance."

"Likewise," the Prince nodded, feeling Marshall lurk near his shoulder, "Your pride does well?"

"They like the fields you granted for our stay, and the fireflies you gave them to chase," the younger royal said, genuinely smiling, "Thank you."

Gumball bowed his head lightly in return, before taking his seat, "I believe you've greeted the Vampire King?" he gestured.

"We've...met." the Flame King answered bluntly, his flames briefly snapping at their edges.

"Yo." Marshall leered, and the Flame King promptly ignored him.

"We're thankful you announced your arrival," Gumball said, quickly overriding the stiffness of the greeting, "And I suppose I must congratulate you on your succession. Am I the first Kingdom you are announcing this news to?"

The fiery figure nodded, smiling, "Yes, actually. I hope my announcement was proper. I'm the first official ambassador of my Kingdom, so forgive me if any of my customs are considered...strange."

"I understand." Gumball soothed, giving an eyebrow to Marshall as if saying 'See? Harmless fellow.' Marshall rolled his eyes.

"I'm a bit of a veteran in foreign relations myself," he went on to say, "If you'd let me, I could offer some instruction? I do have some critique."

"Of course!"

"Ah, thank you," Gumball took the notes that the Peppermint Maid gave him before leaving, "And thank _you_. Now..."

He looked them over, "I appreciate the formality of your, er, announcement, Your Highness. Though I would like to bring it to your notice that the placement was a bit less than desirable, as it was made in an agricultural field that does supply a good many Kingdoms."

". . . I do not understand what 'agricultural' means." the Flame King admitted.

"It is our equivalent of cropland, of a _resource_, that can't withstand your flames, and is counted as a loss, a minor loss, but one nonetheless. Though your confusion is pardonable," Gumball explained patiently, "In the future, a simple messenger sent directly to the palace will suffice, perhaps a Sparkling."

"Understood." the Flame King smiled, "In my haste to announce myself I had not considered its effects on your world."

"And...that's where another issue is seen..." Gumball said carefully, "There was the traditional heralding, yes, but, the second message...?"

Marshall tensed nearby as they looked at the young King, who had the gall to _smile_.

"It is announcing my intent to court Fionna the Human." he said bluntly, _proudly_.

. . . Oh, yes, that made everything _so _much better.

While Marshall's jaw set, his glare was turning demonic, clearly broadcasting 'I do not like this arrogant little upstart.'

But Gumball was surprisingly calm-faced.

"I figured as much," he admitted, "Though I would like to point out that such announcements aren't typically made so...publicly..."

"Oh, I know _that_," the Flame King told him, grinning, "That's why I did it, to bring notice."

Marshall openly _growled_, long and low, but both royals ignored him.

"I'm afraid I couldn't allow that," Gumball said after a moment's pause, "For the reasons being that it would have caused—"

"What do you mean?"

"I meant that as far as Fionna was concerned, that it was considered—"

"No," the Flame King interrupted, frowning, "What do you mean that you couldn't allow it?"

"Well, I will be honest and say that it wasn't appropriate, and if anyone else had viewed it without interpretation, well, I couldn't have that."

"So...so you _removed_ it." he said, speaking as if they were words foreign to him. "Did Fionna ask you to?"

"No, she's not at this time aware that—"

"_You mean you didn't even let her SEE IT?!_" the fire elemental shouted, the flames around his person flaring before quickly ebbing.

"Sorry, sorry, but..." his smile was strained while the ceiling above him wafted slightly with smoke, his movements crackling.

"But...what is wrong with such a declaration?"

Gumball hadn't flinched, simply watching quietly, but Marshall was running a finger on the edge of his guitar.

The Flame King suddenly went blank, "She is not in a _relationship_ is she?" They both notice he glanced at Marshall, who smirked.

Gumball chose to not be underhanded, much, but he was losing patience, "No, not to say that is our business to—"

"Then I don't see why I can't profess my—"

"BECAUSE IT AFFECTS YOUR STATUS AS A DIPLOMAT, YOUR HIGHNESS, AND _FIONNA'S _STANDING. KINDLY ALLOW ME TO SPEAK."

It wasn't a shout, his voice only slightly raised, and level, yet it was loud, and carried firmly and nonnegotiable to the eardrums.

Even Marshall Lee had backed off a little in surprise. He grinned, there was his GB.

The Flame King opened his mouth, shut it, and then sat down, smelling like burnt sugar and air, reminding Gumball of the sugar sand deserts.

"Alright. Please, explain this to me." the King muttered.

". . . Fionna, as we all know, is a very. . .unique individual." Gumball began, and everyone nodded a bit enthusiastically.

"And it's not just because of her specie or her personality," he added, "Her standing itself is unique. She isn't related to nor has any origin with any Kingdom. She is an independent and most influential force, whether intentionally or inadvertently, and has status because of her standing and her actions, especially in the past few years. Thus, she has become a true power in Aaa."

"And," he sighed, "As any power would be, she's put under much scrutiny. Thankfully none of it has been a too stressful factor, but should something portentous, like, say, a sudden and rather ambiguous proposal involve her," he frowned at the Flame King.

"It would frankly cause an uproar."

"But we'd been involved before, and nobody—!" the Flame King protested.

"You were _children_." Gumball said firmly, and felt a bit guilty when the King flinched.

"You were _younger_," he amended, "And neither of you had the standing or significance that you do now."

He leaned on his elbows on the table, and sighed, "Your Majesty, I understand your affections for Fionna, but it was my understanding that they'd been...put aside on both parties for some time. And..." he thought over this carefully, "Uh...a doused flame can't resurge in an instant. It requires time, and patience, and care. We will discuss such associations later, but you are now a _delegate _of great import, and still so very much at the kindling stage, politically. You can't afford such complications as _courting_ at this time, and neither can she." He looked him in the eye, "Understand?"

The young royal had crossed his arms over his chest, and had been staring silently at the tabletop until he looked at the Candy Prince.

". . . I understand the concerns. . ." he said. "But I do not believe I can accept them."

"At least acknowledge them. _Marshall Lee_." Gumball said quickly, before the vampire could do something violent with that guitar.

"You are the sole ruler and royalty of this Kingdom, are you not?" the Flame King suddenly asked.

Gumball blinked, taken aback, "Well, yes."

"Why then, are you not King?"

". . . That information is not available at this time." Gumball said neutrally.

"Because you _fear_ that status, don't you?" the younger royal went on to ask, a small smirk tugging at his mouth.

"You fear the changes necessary to make things happen, you fear what you could _lose_."

His flames roared quietly around his person, "Well I didn't. And I will not let the ideals of some weak _politician_ hinder me now..."

"You are toeing the line, Your _Highness_." Marshall Lee snarled.

The Flame King sneered, "My toe _draws _the line, _vegetarian._"

"Oh-ho-ho, _that's_ it, ya little—!"

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Gumball shouted, just as the door opened.

Peppermint Maid came in with Fionna, both of them carrying large armfuls of huge, garishly colored flowers.

The two women stared.

Marshall Lee was apparently coming at the Flame King with his Axe, while the Flame King was burning blue at the edges.

Gumball had looked ready to throw his chair.

Peppermint blinked, "I trust I judged my timing right?" she asked politely.

There was another beat of silence.

"We brought flowers." Fionna said quickly, holding out her armful, which shed a few petals.

"For peace and stuff."

Silence.

She looked around as they all stared at her, and, panicking, threw them up to scatter all over the room.

A few of the petals caught fire as they drifted past the Flame King.

There was more strained silence.

Peppermint Maid quickly did the same, applauding manically.

Silence.

Marshall Lee spat out a petal.

". . . Yay?" Fionna squeaked.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"That was embarrassing..." the Candy Prince grumbled later, retired in the privacy of his office.

"That little brat has no business being here, or around Fio." Marshall said flatly, strumming blandly in the corner.

Gumball had the good nature left to smirk, "Technically, for you, _everyone _is a little brat..."

"Har, har, yeah, 'make fun of the chronologically advantaged dude' joke. Cle-_ver_." Marshall snarked, floating over.

"Seriously, Bubba, what're we gonna do? I say kick Mr. Hotpants back to Flame Kingdom, but no, that's too good to happe-e-en..."

Gumball leaned back on his chair, as Marshall Lee slung his arms over his shoulders.

"You're worried." Gumball observed.

"Me? Nah." Marshall scoffed into the back of Gumball's hair.

The younger man remained silent.

"Well... Yeah..." the vampire finally muttered crossly.

"The kid's friendlier with her, more forward than us, and frankly I'm relieved he can't actually touch her or we'd be sunk."

"Actually," Gumball said, "I've heard rumors he's stabilized his matrix. I'm loathe to admit that I'd want to study that."

A beat passed.

". . . Don't you freaking _joke_." Marshall growled, and the Prince only chuckled.

"But really?"

"Really."

"Dangit."

"Don't worry," Gumball sighed, "We'll do as we will, and do well. Trust me."

He craned his head around to smile at the vampire, "This was your idea, right? And my plan."

"Don't say 'what could possibly fail?' because then Murphy will take it as a challenge." Marshall Lee warned.

Gumball frowned, "Murphy?"

"Sociopathic coot, discovered some stupid law that actually works. You sure we'll be okay?"

"Yes."

Marshall shrugged, "Alright then."

When he didn't make any move to leave, Gumball cleared his throat, "Do you want to stay over?"

"Eh. . ."

". . . Would you like to stay over?"

Marshall Lee smirked, "Well, if you're asking..."

Gumball laughed.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The Flame King laid against the side of one of the larger fire lions.

He liked looking at the stars. With all the light and smoke and caverns back home, it had been hard to see them.

"Do you think she'd think the same way they do?" he asked the sleeping cub that curled in his lap.

Its ear twitched, but it didn't give him any in-depth response.

He groaned to himself, leaning back again.

He felt strange inside. He'd heard these flameless ones talk about 'love' as if it were a burning inside, sometimes.

He didn't know what burning _felt_ like, but he'd compare it to feeling breathless.

He remembered that time when he'd fallen so deep he couldn't breathe or burn, and it was suffocating, stripping away at his skin, making him feel vulnerable. And he thought he felt that inside, like something needed air he couldn't get for it.

Fionna had that 'air', but couldn't give it to him, so he'd had to leave her. That had hurt.

He smiled, shifting a bit, feeling the soft fur of his comrade.

But _now_ Fionna could give it to him freely, without fear.

He'd show her.

And no weak _Prince _was going to stand in his way.

He chuckled.

What could a _Prince _do against a _King?  
_

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Urgh, that was embarrassing..." Fionna mumbled, curled up in her room.

'Peace and stuff'? And what the stuff was _with _those guys?!

This...this really wasn't good. Flame King was...was..._aargh_ she didn't know _what_ he was!

"I'm the hero..." she told herself angrily, "I'm the _hero_..."

She turned over in her bed, trying to suffocate herself in the furs.

"I'm...I'm the hero..."

* * *

. . .

* * *

Cake watched carefully from the door as her sister finally went to sleep.

Apparently it had been a not-so-awesome day.

"Hoo, boys, you better fix this _good_..." she muttered under her breath, before closing the door.


	27. Flare

**Author's note: **_Warning: Slightly spoiler-esque chapter alluding to the original fem-AT episodes and comic (which I haven't read properly. So don't take any of my perspectives on it to heart. Because I don't own any of this stuff. Boo.)_

_Keep calm and carry coffee!_

* * *

"Fionna?" Cake asked.

"Hm?"

Cake frowned, whiskers twitching when Fionna kept staring out the window, gently stabbing her toast.

". . . We're gonna go to fang-face's music thingy this week, right?"

"Mmhm."

"Should we bring our kazoos?"

"Mmhm."

"Ya know, the evil voodoo-y ones that suck out the souls of your eardrums when ya play 'em?"

"Mmhm."

Cake waited.

". . . Oh, hey, Flame King's in the fireplace."

Fionna wordlessly and quite quickly dove under the table, breakfast stuff flying everywhere.

Cake smirked, "Ooh, never mind, my bad, it was just the fire."

Fionna got up slowly, face flushed and a slice of butter-soaked toast on her head.

"Not _funny_." she grumbled, and Cake sighed, "What's not funny is the 'tude ya got goin', girl, what's eatin' ya?"

". . . Just stuff." Fionna sighed, looking at the piece of toast she rescued from her hat, before shrugging and taking a bite.

"I made a super sis-day breakfast, Fio, we don't got _time_ for _stu-uff!_" Cake whined, waving her arms at the table spread.

"I'm sorry, Cake." Fionna grimaced apologetically.

The cat sighed again, munching on a fish cake, "Wha'shoo needa do ishpell beansh..." she said reproachfully around a mouthful.

"I'm not bean-spilling, Cake, you _know_ it's just the Flame Prin—Flame King!"

"Thash," Cake swallowed, "_That's _pretty fluffing obvious. _Why, _though? You two are old news!"

"I don't think he knows that," Fionna grumbled, "And...I'm not sure if _I_ know that..." she admitted.

"Give it to me straight, sister." Cake said, beckoning a paw.

That's all it took.

"My heart-guts still jump," Fionna complained, "My face flushes, he looks too good, he gets too _close_, and every time I look at him I wish I wouldn't have to look like a wishy-washy happy-sappy heart-brained idiot to say 'okay' if he asks me out again after leaving me like the big lame-flame jerkface he was or I'm just wishing I _didn't feel anything anymore at **all** in the **first** place except that I **do** which sucks **mud** and why am I seeing all these freaking glowy spots?_"

She slumped over the table, dexterously avoiding her plate, inhaling desperately as Cake told her to breathe.

"And...and heros aren't supposed to _have_ that junk, anyway, or they _shouldn't_..." Fionna finished with a mumble into the tablecloth.

"I don't get it." Cake said bluntly, "Who says what heros get to get or not, huh?"

"It's—!" Fionna waved her arms vaguely, making Cake think of an octopus. Now Cake wanted sushi.

"It's a _hero _thing, I mean, you know stories, right?"

Then Fionna quickly shook her head, "No, no, I'm starting this wrong."

She took a quick gulp of hot cocoa (anything goes on sis-day breakfast) before looking at Cake.

"You know all the stuff I do a lot, Cake? That we do?"

"We save the day and be badawesome about it." Cake cheered, lifting her own mug.

"Well, yeah, but what else?"

"Uhh...we do random stuff and be badawesome about it?"

"Er, that too, but what else?"

"We hang out with fang-face and Gumbo a lot?" Cake said, perhaps the slightest sly twitch to her eyes.

Fionna's face flushed, "We _help or save princes, _Cake!"

"Oh, tha-at!" Cake grinned, "We save Gummy Boy, too."

Fionna waved a hand agitatedly, "Gumball's different."

Cake suddenly blinked and hope Fionna didn't notice her nerve-y-ness, "Uh, different good or bad?"

"Good, _duh._"

"Dang." Cake mumbled quietly. Fionna didn't notice.

"But not my point!" Fionna continued firmly, waving her fork like a teacher's pointy stick.

"Romance should stay with the romance stories, or else they won't work! I am an adventure story! It is the fact of life!"

"'Scuse me?" Cake asked.

Fionna sighed, "You know I ha-_had _a super-sappy crush on GB, right? And then we were gonna go out on his Bi-Annual Gumball Ball.

What happened?"

"Uh," Cake thought it over, "Your date was with Ice Queen instead and ya didn't know it until Gumball-who-wasn't-Gumball started takin' his shirt off you said and then things got super weird and I wanted to claw him up and then you saved the day woohoo and you didn't take him up on it when he asked ya _out _out until you knew yourself or somethin' which I think was good for ya anyway and I should prob'ly breathe now."

It was Cake's turn to gasp over the table as Fionna firmly patted her back.

"Right."

She leaned on the table, taking a good draught of the cocoa, "Ah, good stuff...

And then what happened with Flame King before he was Flame King?"

"Uh," Cake thought it over again, "You saved him from the Ice Queen when his fire pride trampled all over her front yard or somethin' and he was this cute li'l fire blob thing until we fixed him up but then he was all haughty and stuff but then you guys were cool though I told ya not to, hung out, couldn't touch each other, bummer, but then you hung _out _hung out in spite of his crazy matrix thing I don't know and he got frustrated with ya nearly burnin' up all the time when you guys tried to get all lovey-dovey even after you had y'all's share of adventures together and then he just left with his fire pride after that fight and not even leaving a freaking phone number until he came back yesterday."

She took a break for breath again while Fionna nodded.

"And that's it right there." Fionna pointed out, "Love-love just doesn't work for heros."

Cake spat, "Aw, _c'mon_, a few botched dates or so doesn't mean ya can't—!"

"No, I'm serious, Cake, I thought it out!" Fionna protested. "I can have it, but I can't keep it, which means I shouldn't have it!"

When Cake glared, Fionna sighed, "Cake, you remember Billie?"

They both had a sad moment, thinking about the giant heroine who had inspired them.

"She..." Fionna sighed, "I don't think she ever really _had_ anybody, you know? Aw, she might have _liked _somebody who liked her back, but maybe it didn't work and, and her heart was gone until we fixed it. And it wasn't fixed with love. Someone who has love-love shouldn't lose their hearts, so she must not have had it. But it didn't matter! Billie was a true hero whose heart was built with heroism! A true-hearted _hero_, Cake!"

Fionna's fist smacked the table in her zeal, "A true." _Wham!_ "Hearted." _Wham!_ "_HERO!_" **WHAM!**

The table broke with a _crash, splat, thump_.

They stared down at the mess.

". . . Oops."

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Anyway," Fionna continued after they cleaned up the mess and duct-taped the table, "I think that's my destiny, Cake."

"What is?"

"To have a hero's heart, not a lover's one."

Fionna looked serious.

Cake's whiskers drooped, "Aw, Fionna, baby, that's an awful big thought to think right there..."

"It's not a thought," Fionna said stubbornly, "It's what _is_, Cake. It wouldn't work out with GB, it hadn't worked out with Flame King, and..."

"And fang-face?" Cake snapped, "What about him?"

"He..." Fionna sighed, "I don't think he thinks about love and stuff the same way I would. He was making it that _I _was in love with _him _and did the meanest stuff to try and get me to say it." Fionna grinned, "And then I punched him in the cheek meat for it."

She shook her head, "I don't think it would work out, even if he did think of me as someone besides someone to mess with.  
I really think love-love just doesn't work for me..."

Cake was silently wringing her tail under the table, as they both sat in quiet.

"PANCAKES!" Cake suddenly shrieked, "We forgot all 'bout th' freakin' pancakes I'mma go make some you sit there don't move!"

Fionna blinked, but waited patiently, if picking at a piece of duct-tape that stuck out.

She thought she heard something like '_Blarghrfrblnngnnrr_' over the sounds of stuff clanging about.

Soon a huge stack of giant, hot pancakes was plopped on the table, which groaned in protest.

Fionna looked up as the top of the tower wobbled dangerously, one pancake nearly brushing the light fixture.

Cake slowly glared at the human from around the stack.

Fionna stared.

Cake's eyes narrowed, "You're stupid." she said bluntly.

When Fionna's mouth dropped open in her anger, Cake held up a paw, looking down her nose, "You heard me, honey!"

Cake sat next to the pancake stack, tail swishing, "You. Are. STU~UPID."

She threw her paws up, "What in Aaa makes you think you can go all," she morphed her ears to look like a bunny's, and mimicked a swoon, "_Oh! My heart be-eth broken-eth! I shall never love-eth again...eth!_" she morphed back, "Huh?! Ya gonna surrender so easily, soldier?!"

Fionna had backed into her seat, indignity and worried confusion wrinkling her face.

"Sure, you can say you don't like-like this guy or that guy or those guys!" Cake said, and moved on before the last couple of words sounded funny, "But you can't say you'll _never _like-like _any guy!"_

She waved her paws around, "That's like cancelling the party before the crashers show up!"

She jabbed a claw at Fionna's nose, "Don't freaking cancel the party! Hear me?"

"B-but the story..." Fionna mumbled.

"Stories are for books! Not peoples! Don't. Cancel. The party. _Hear me?_"

"But what if—?!"

"What-what-what-what-so-freaking-_what_?!" Cake snapped.

"You'll have your heart how it freaking _is_ and hold it like a hero, dangit! You'll show 'em it can get kicked around, stomped down, broken, crushed, or even freaking burned and it'll still beat as good as it ever did! Are you gonna cancel the party?!"

"_-mumble, mumble-_"

"I _said_: ARE YA GONNA CANCEL THE PARTY?!"

"HACK NO!" Fionna yelled fearfully, hands clenching into the table's edge.

"Good!"

Cake walked back across the table to her seat and sat down with a plop.

Fionna stared as her sister eyed the tower of skillet stuff before skilfully swiping a cake from the bottom.

"Syrup?" Cake asked, as the pillar of pastries swayed.

"But-but it'll _hurt_..." Fionna finally whined.

"A little sugar never harmed a heart. Maybe buzz it a little, but you'll be fine." Cake smiled, before she growled, "Now take your freaking syrup."

Fionna blinked as she was offered a pancake drenched in the sticky, sweet substance.

Cake wobbled it a little, an eyebrow challengingly raised.

Glaring, Fionna took the plate, and took a large, defiant, jaw-gluing mouthful, her eyes tearing up a bit over the struggle.

Just tears from eating, that was _all_.

For a moment there were just sounds of scarfing and forks scraping plates.

". . . Thef'foo..." Fionna mumbled.

"You're welcome." Cake said cheerily. "Love you, Fio."

"Uff'oo foo..."

* * *

. . .

* * *

After the dishes were cleaned and put away, Cake stared at the last, lone pancake. She frowned.

"You boys freaking _owe _me..." she growled, before stretching to swallow the pancake whole.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball grumbled a bit to himself as his sleeping 'bunk-mate' hovered enough to pull the duvet away.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. That's right. The Flame King's 'conference' had been last night.

And then Marshall stayed over.

He smiled, slightly exasperated at the vampire.

The man tried, he really did, but Marshall Lee never had much of an affinity for gravity.

He was about to take stock of the day when his door slammed open.

"Your Majesty, I've come to declare that I—"

The Flame King stopped, and stared at Gumball's state of undress. Gumball was glad he'd worn some shorts.

"I was told you were in here." Flame King explained bluntly, flames stuttering.

"Well, you were not misinformed." Gumball chuckled nervously.

"This is my bedroom."

"I don't understand."

"It's where I _sleep_." Gumball groaned. It was too early for this.

Flame King frowned, "You mean you have specific rooms for different functions?"

"Yes..."

"That seems terribly ineffi—..."

Then the duvet fell from Marshall Lee.

Marshall Lee did not wear shorts.

Flame King's jaw dropped as Gumball smacked his hand to his face, quickly pulling the duvet back up to protect his friend's dubious modesty.

. . .

"I can explain—" Gumball began but the Flame King was already stammering.

"B-but he's—not!—and you're both—why—what's—?!"

Flame King blinked, as the puzzle piece fell in with a dreadful _click_.

. . .

Gumball winced as the young royal lurched back and _shrieked_.

Marshall Lee's reaction was both swift and admirable, even if it was performed _au naturale_.

He had the Flame King pinned against the wall with his Axe, the wallpaper scorching and curling as the vampire snarled.

"_What are you doing here?_"

"_Gethimoffgethimoffgethimoffgethimoff!_" the King shouted, hands clutching at the Axe's handle, and Marshall sneered.

"This is Nightosphere metal, _firebug_, forged to resist even hellfire, which has a lot more spit than you. _Don't make me prove it._"

The Flame King glared at the Vampire King in disgust and terror, before shoving a handful of fire in his face.

"GAAAAAAHHHH!"

Marshall reeled back, swinging blindly, the burnt skin of his face already healing as he howled.

_"Freakingfireflybittencrapcrawlingflamebrained—" _the younger King dodged frantically,_ "Sonofacharcoalchompin'mutantmaggotysalamander—!" _

The blade was resting against the Flame King's neck before he could move, the demonic visage leaning closely, hissing.

_"Can I kill him **now**, Bubba?"_

Another handful of flame was glowing as the Flame King gritted his teeth.

"Marshall Lee, back down," Gumball snapped out, "And hold your fire, Your Highness."

The vampire glanced back at the Prince, and then glared at the King until he quenched his projectile.

Marshall Lee backed off.

"And for Glob's sake, put on some pants!" Gumball groaned.

The vampire hissed at the two, before turning invisible.

The Candy Prince wearily pinched the bridge of his nose before taking a seat.

". . . You. . ." the Flame King pointed vaguely, horrified disgust on his face, "And. . ._he_. . .?"

"Yes, Marshall Lee and I are partners." Gumball said tiredly.

"B-but that's...that's..."

"Unconventional?"

"_Gross!_" the Flame King spluttered, "You're _guys_!"

"Please, is this really such a new concept to you?!" Gumball snapped angrily.

The Flame King flinched back, "It's...not...it's-it's _frowned_ upon..." he muttered, flickering.

"And it doesn't concern any affairs _outside of this room_." Gumball stated.

"So I'll appreciate it if you practiced discretion and were silent on this matter."

The Flame King stared, and slumped against the wall.

Gumball winced inside, but thankfully hadn't much liked that wallpaper.

"How...how does Fionna feel about this...?" the young royal stammered.

Gumball's wince was more external this time, "She...doesn't..."

. . .

"You mean she doesn't know." the Flame King stated, blinking slowly.

"And it's in my interests for it to stay that way." Gumball had the wariness to growl.

"Why not?" Flame King asked more bluntly, "Is it your shame?"

"It is my precaution." Gumball replied firmly, standing up, "And this discussion is done. I have your discretion?"

"Yeah, nobody likes a blabbermouth." Marshall drawled as he reappeared, thankfully in some slacks.

The Flame King's disgust visibly renewed.

"Fionna might get...misguided, if you two's...situation...isn't brought to light..." Flame King said slowly.

"Wha-at, are ya jealous, hot stuff?" Marshall leered, tongue flicking out briefly.

Flame King shuddered, sparking.

"I...I am concerned for Fionna." he stated.

"Given how _this_ one acts," he indicated with a scoff to Marshall, "She might get the wrong idea."

"Oh, it won't be the wrong idea." Marshall Lee purred.

Flame King blinked, and then gaped, "You'll let your—you'll let him speak that way?!" he whirled to Gumball.

Gumball looked very, very stressed.

"Your Highness, _do_ I have your discretion? Marshall Lee Abadeer, will you please shut your jaw?"

"Hmm, I don't think I will," Marshall mused, floating as he idly herded the Flame King around the room with his presence.

"I'm kind of tired of playing 'Dance Around The Dimwit'."

"Back off." the Flame King warned, flaring dangerously.

"Marshall, let him be." Gumball said stonily.

"Are you jelly too, GB?" Marshall Lee snickered, "Seriously, I think this kid needs to know his _place_ concerning _Fionna_..."

"Why do you let him speak this way about her?!" Flame King snapped, "He's _your partner, _isn't he?!"

"And Fionna is our mutual friend," Gumball was quick to soothe, "So you must understand that _we'd _be concerned as—"

"Oh, cut the sweet talk, sweetheart!" the vampire laughed, "We're all _men _here aren't we?!"

"You mean you're..." Flame King began, and then his face seemed to close up, his flames drawn in.

"You're going to involve Fionna in this, as well."

"Ding! Ding! Ding! Give the boy a prize!" the vampire cackled, as Gumball tried to ease his rising migraine.

"For the love of—this is so out of hand..." the Candy Prince groaned.

"I would say this is barbaric, but I don't think even savages are this crude." the younger King observed.

"Love knows no bounds, baby." the vampire sneered.

"This isn't _love_," the Flame King scoffed, "This-this is selfishness..."

". . . Run that by me again?"

Gumball looked up wearily.

"You two have each _other_," Flame King said quietly, "Why do you need _her_? Why can't I—? I—..."

He straightened, "I can't allow this."

He turned quickly to the door, but an Axe blade barred his way.

_"_**_Can I kill him__ NOW__?_**_"_

"I will burn you to ashes and then burn those ashes if you stand in my way!"

"I will chop off your legs and make you kick yourself back to Firecracker Land!"

"I will mix your ashes into your mother's morning cup of blood! And then burn her!"

"I'M GONNA KILL HIM NOW!"

"ENOUGH!" Gumball stood in front of door, slightly shielding himself from the heat.

"I concede!"

Both Kings blinked at him. "What?" they said.

"For the rest of your stay," Gumball continued, breathing hard, "We will not hinder your interactions with Fionna, nor interfere should she choose to interact with you, until it is time for you to move on. In return, I ask for your discretion regarding us, and for care when with Fionna..."

The Flame King's eyes narrowed shrewdly, as he sized the Prince up, "And if she chooses me?" he asked.

". . . We will not interfere." Gumball repeated, warily watching Marshall's face slowly warp and twist in silent fury.

". . . See that you don't." the young King growled, "Agreed. You have my silence, and my promise to treat her well."

Then he smirked, "That had been my intention when coming here, to declare my courting in spite of any opposition."

He laughed drily, "Thank you for your understanding."

He glared at the door, ignoring the vampire's hellish visage, "May I go now?"

"Of course." Gumball stepped aside with a slight bow, blank-faced, and the King left, leaving behind the smell of burnt oil paint and paper.

As soon as they were alone Gumball was slammed into the wall by his shoulder and throat, and felt fangs rasp the skin over his trachea.

"_What did you just do, Your Majesty_?"

"I f-fixed—your mess, is what I—did!" Gumball choked out, "This works into—in-into the plan!"

"_This wasn't in the plan, Your Majesty_."

"Well neither was laying all our bloody cards on the table!" the Prince shouted, and lack of air made him dizzy.

Next thing he knew he was on the floor, coughing frantically while Marshall stalked around the ceiling, staring down at him like an owl, or a _bat_.

"_Talk fast, Bubba_," the vampire hissed, "_Tell me why I shouldn't go out and murder a monarch?_"

"B-because he'll fail..." Gumball wheezed.

Red eyes blinked, "_You so sure, now?_"

"Of an 86.7% certainty..." he grunted, rubbing his neck.

He was slammed back again, but this time in a rough embrace.

"M'sorry..."

Gumball sighed as the vampire backed off to check him, his throat, his shoulder, "Marshall..."

"I'm _sorry_, GB..."

"Marshall, shut your freaking jaw." Gumball told him, and proceeded to shut him up in an unconventional way.

. . .

". . . It'll be _just fine_..." Gumball reassured him.

Then he stood up and backed off, going to his notes.

"Now tell me what you planned, precisely, for this week's Casual Tea? What will I need to make?" he asked.

Marshall Lee blinked, and stared, but automatically got out the list he'd had in the back of his mind.

Soon, tension eased as they discussed plans and ideas, throwing their mental processes eagerly, fervently into the task.

* * *

. . .

* * *

In a more private moment Marshall Lee was busy concussing himself on a convenient boulder.

He stopped, looking at the granite indentation, and sighed.

Everything was gonna be fine...

* * *

**Author's note: **_Bwaghaha. Long chapter. For me anyway. That's really the only comment I have now. I hope this was enjoyed! Reviews are, as always, welcomed and appreciated. Thank you! _— _the hatchling_


	28. Stoked

"Marshall, can't this wait?"

"Nope."

. . .

"You realize that this can be considered kidnapping and torture, right?"

"Yup."

. . .

"And...and you're going to leave me like this?"

"Yup."

. . .

"Where _anyone_ can walk in?!"

"Guess so."

. . .

"You're not happy, are you?"

"Nope."

Gumball sighed, leaning back a bit, and the chandelier swung gently in opposite. It would hold, but it was awfully dusty, and rather alarmingly high above the ground, but the ceiling arches were quite aesthetically pleasing from this vantage point.

He tried to watch Marshall as the vampire floated in a lazy circle around the ceiling and chandelier.

Ooh, someone had to polish the sconces down there...

"I suppose I can be audience to your complaints, then..." the Candy Prince grumbled, observing where the anchor cable slung to the floor.

Marshall's eyes were closed in a slight frown, stopping the faint tune he'd been playing, and his eyes snapped open.

"Thank you, _your Majesty_." he hissed. Then he lurched forward, but stayed just out of strangling reach.

"Why the hack did you back down for Flame Kink?!" he snarled, "Why so freaking quickly, huh?! He thinks you're a stuffing _doormat!"_

Gumball raised an eyebrow, "Do you think I'm a doormat?"

"Cha-_yeah_!" the vampire snapped, hands gripping tightly around the bridge and body of his Axe, "That was—you were weak!

_Weak, weak,_ _WEEEEAK!" _

The last word echoed around the ballroom, and both royals turned as the the door opened a crack.

Peppermint Maid peeked in, and looked up, raising an eyebrow at the prince perched on the light fixture, "Is there a problem?"

"_Mind your own freaking beeswax, cavity_." Marshall Lee snarled, bringing out one of his worst faces.

She sniffed, and glanced to Gumball, who smiled blandly, "Holding a meeting now, Monet. It's fine."

"Of course, Your Highness."

"_Don't freaking SMILE_." the King hissed as she shut the door, grabbing Gumball by the front of his shirt, "YOU GAVE UP THE PLAN!"

"No I didn't, and I'm not going to. And you're complaining _now_?"

"Because I thought you'd do something, but no-o _you're not doing_ **an-y-thing**..."

Gumball had the mind to actually pout, "Is that really what it looks like?"

Marshall's grin twitched edgily at the corners, "That's what I'm _seeing_. He's been here for _days_, hounding her like the freaking puppy he is, leaving his crap everywhere. If he shows up at the dang _Casual Tea_, at _my _house, I'm gonna—I'm-I'm gonna—"

"Be a good host, and a good friend." Gumball told him, boldly grasping the wrist that held his shirt front, "For Fionna."

"For crap's sake, _why?!_"

"I can't tell you yet."

Marshall stared at him blankly, and then shoved him away, causing the chandelier to swing like a pendulum.

Gumball held tightly to the main stem, practically hugging it as the floor swayed worryingly below.

He grunted as his stomach _lurched _unpleasantly.

"_Ohglob_..." he gagged, starting to turn a little grey, and Marshall stared before giving it another rough shove.

"_Pleastobbit..._" the prince groaned, as the chandelier swung gently, heavily, and inexorably, making Gumball feel dizzy and sick.

"Tell me."

"_Nngh...n... No..._" Gumball managed, and then burped, groaning.

"No? Aww, say it ain't so, bro!" Marshall whined, and gave it another _shove._

"_Ngaaaahh..._"

"Whassamatta, GB? Does widdle Gummy got the rumbly tums?" Marshall laughed, then made it _spin_.

"_Nnrrggh_...!"

"_Round and round and round he goes_!" Marshall sang, mangling the rhyme with his rocking tunes as he made it spin _faster_.

"_Where he stops, nobody—WOAH!_"

He caught him before he could hit the wall, and gently deposited him on the floor, laughing as Gumball used him for support, shaking.

"_Urgh_..."

"Mea culpa! Hey, so how about you tell me what's—_aw, geez, not the shirt, man, nottheshirt!_"

* * *

. . .

* * *

One cleaning crew and a visit to Dr. Ice Cream later, and Gumball was quietly at his desk, _again_, while Marshall hovered nearby and felt like a jerkwad. Which he probably was. Still, the guy was asking for it.

And he was now shirtless, so he was owed something.

"Seriously, GB, why have you been going all Moai Boy on me?"

Gumball finally stopped, and sighed, glancing back at the vampire tiredly.

"Do you honestly not recognize 'cold shoulder' when it is being shoved down your throat, Marshall?" he asked flatly.

"Wha-at?" Marshall made a face, "C'mon, Bubba, I caught you didn't I?"

". . ." Gumball turned around in his seat to stare.

"You're joking," he said bluntly, "You honestly forgot what you did?"

Marshall Lee blinked, "Um, today I snagged you out of your work this morning, put you on the fancy lightbulb, maybe made you barf, 'cause you weren't doing anything about Lame King. _Yesterday_ I ate the red out of your fancy, apparently one-of-a-kind seal stamp so now it only stamps grey instead of red, but the red was tasty, and freaked out that last cleaning lady so much that she quit, but she hated my guts anyway and was a stupid little gossip. And the day before _that_ I might have threatened the li'l Blowtorch a bit because he was sticking his nose in places he shouldn't have been and was getting on my freaking nerves with his whining."

"And revealed our interest in Fionna, while threatening an ambassador." Gumball continued bluntly.

"And revealed our plan, while threatening an ambassador."

He stood up, "And so allowed him both political and personal leverage and advantage to freely pursue his own interest in Fionna."

He walked towards Marshall, "And put a lot of strain on me to salvage beneficial relations with the Fire Kingdom while simultaneously working on the fail-safes I may now have to use for the plan for Fionna, especially as the Flame King is now a more significant variable than he otherwise might have been."

He leaned in, smiling benignly, "And you accomplished all this before breakfast time, in the space of maybe fifteen or twenty minutes."

The smile turned into a blank, pink mask, "And now you insist on tormenting me daily when I simply cannot show any visible progress due to the fact that you've put a significant dent in my confidence in you _and_ increased the necessity to keep my works in secrecy.

That is why I've gone all 'Moai Boy' on you, Marshall Lee.

Because I.

Am.

_Busy_."

He tilted his head to the side, smiling again, "Have I left anything out?"

Marshall Lee floated there, a blank look of faint surprise on his face.

He smirked a bit nervously, "Sometimes I can't tell if you're as adorable as all get out or scary as scat when you're like this."

"Sorry," Gumball muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I really am busy though. Believe me, I'm not slacking."

"My bad, man." Marshall sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

"You can't really help it, I guess," Gumball admitted, "It is somewhat part of your nature."

"Nah, nah, really, I should be cooler than that, at least because this affects me too. I was a very _bad_ demon-boy to not protect my own little investments." he purred. Marshall chuckled when Gumball rolled his eyes, and idly looked over the prince's desk.

He blinked, "With all this junk you do..." he muttered, "Why _aren't _you a King, Bubba?"

". . . A story for another time." Gumball told him, "But one that will be told."

He smiled at the vampire, "Why don't you go check up on Fionna? Just...don't do anything..."

"Stupid. Gotcha. _All_ over it." he winked, "Seeya around, Highness."

Gumball waved tiredly with a more genuine smile as Marshall left through the window, again never closing it behind him.

He sat back down at his work and stared at his desk. He looked at the piles of designs, outlines, bios, plans, contract drafts, recipes, analyses, letters; lists of ingredients, of people, of prices, of losses, of gains; statistics sheets and graphs, long papers of equations and pieces of speeches, and here, the whimsical, simple sketch of Fionna he'd doodled on the backside of a shopping list, leaning on her sword with that cheeky buck-toothed smile.

He stared.

". . . I so need a vacation. . ." he sighed.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna was understandably nervous as Flame King led her further away from the Kingdom. She'd been used to him tagging along before, and back then had really welcomed his company, but now it just seemed...annoying, and maybe a little worrying...  
He didn't like adventures much, anymore.

She didn't know if she liked the way he kept smiling at her, and he mostly liked to talk about his Kingdom now instead of talking to her about other stuff, the land maybe, what he thought about forest frogs, or what firecrackers tasted like. And she really didn't like how close he'd been getting lately. It wasn't just that he was both literally and physically hot, but he'd edge in behind her or lean in a lot when she talked and she was surprised her heart wasn't shot by now.

And now he wanted to show her something and sounded so eager about it that she couldn't find it in her to say no.  
She remembered showing him dungeons, once, and was hopeful.

"Your friends..." he asked after they hadn't talked, "The vampire and the Prince. Are they friends with each other, too?"

"Seems like it." she said, smiling, glad he wasn't talking about political burnings or executions.

She brushed aside vegetation that hadn't burned away for him, following, careful to avoid stepping on hotspots.

Surprisingly, he burned very little of his surroundings than she remembered.

"I know it looks like they fight and annoy each other a lot, but I really think they've gotten closer."

She blinked at his back when he suddenly doubled over and began choking, and he didn't look too well.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked nervously. How do you Heimlich a guy who's on fire?!

"M'fine!" he coughed, "Sorry, uh, ash in my throat..."

After a moment he straightened up, and they kept on walking.

"Uh, close, you say?" he asked, trying to smile again, "Isn't it sudden, though? They had not been so...friendly, to my memory..."

She shook her head, but then shrugged, "It's been some years, you know." she said a bit reproachfully, then hummed, "I'm not really sure, even. Just sorta showed up. But it's pretty cool, they even play games with each other now."

"R-_really_..." he replied, sounding a bit strangled, but that might've just been the ashes, and she nodded, happy that he was interested.

"Uh-huh. They've gotten a lot more cooperative about it, too, even if they're still competitive. It's pretty fun to watch."

She blinked as he acted up again, backing off as his flamage stuttered, "Uh, dude, seriously, is there something you can take for this?"

"M'_fine_...!"

She waited a bit nervously, "You know," she suggested helpfully, "Some of the games are kind of fun. You could play too, if you wanted...to...

FK?

. . .

_FK?!_"

* * *

. . .

* * *

They finally stopped at a sort of rocky patch of ground. It was pretty level for the region, and well surrounded by trees. Fionna looked around, before she spotted the large rock near the middle of it. The rock was strangely scorched black, though the surroundings weren't. If it was him, how'd he do that?

"You've been here before?" she asked.

"Yes," he told her, smiling. "Here, have a seat. Don't worry, it's cooled."

He laughed, "At home, we don't even know such a word exists, 'cool'!"

"What do you use for awesome, then?" she asked, plopping down into a curve in the rock.

"Stoked, or stoking. Like 'That is so stoked', or 'It's stoking'."

"What do you call water?"

He smiled a bit wryly, "For that, we just use 'hurt'."

She winced, "Oh. Sorry."

"Don't worry!" he laughed.

He smiled at her, "Thank you for coming with me, Fionna."

"Sure," she replied, grinning, but then felt nervous again, "What, uh, did you want to show me?"

"Ah!" he said, "Right, right, right, first, check this..."

He trotted a bit aways, and then turned to her, "Are you watching?"

She nodded. He grinned, and then turned blue all over, like the color of his hand blowtorch.

She gaped, and then he turned green, then orange, then red.

She clapped, laughing, "Dude, you're a freaking light show!"

He grinned, and then his skin turned dark black while his palms, the bottoms of his feet, his eyes, hair, mouth, and flames turned red.

Her jaw fell open this time, "Okay, that's pretty badawesome..."

He smiled a bit sheepishly, turning back to normal, his face flushing orange, and Fionna felt a twinge in her heart-guts.

He then juggled with balls of flame that he could put out, made rings of fire he could twirl, even made tentacles of fire that he could control, looking like some sort of weird fire monster when he did, but it was awesome!

"Wait, wait, wait, that's not all!" he told her, chuckling. Then he jumped.

And he did not come back down.

She did nothing but stare, jaw-dropped as he hovered in the air. He smiled a bit nervously, hovering on a jet of flame, turning a circle on the spot, hovering up, and down, and flying around the clearing before coming to a stop in front of her, landing lightly, trailing flames.

". . . That was freaking—that was—wow..." she gave up, and he laughed, "Thank you."

"Hey, hey if you can fly now, why do you stay on the ground all the time?" she asked.

He raised a fiery eyebrow, "If you can run, princess, why do you walk all the time?" he countered.

". . . Good point." she grumbled, sitting back, and he sat near her. She edged a way a bit from the warmth that would get hot.

"And I'm really not a princess, man." she pointed out.

He smiled, "I see you as one."

She blushed, and his smile widened, and she thought she saw his flames look _pink _for a moment.

Gumball would've laughed.

"So-so it wears ya out?" she asked quickly.

"Sort of..." he flexed his hand thoughtfully.

"It's not natural for me. It's like those dreams where you have to breathe out all the time to stay afloat in the sky, and you don't really need to breathe in a dream, but you have to breathe in anyway to breathe out some more, eventually, so..."

He shrugged, grinning, "Anyway, that's not all I could do. But I think this place is too pretty in some ways to burn."

"Hm..." she looked around, "Yeah, I guess."

"Fionna..."

She blinked, and turned to look at him, but backed off quickly when he was leaning again while her back was turned.

"_Don't freaking _do _that_!" she yelped.

He raised his hands, "Sorry, sorry!"

He frowned, slowly lowered his hands, "You didn't used to be this...freaked around me, Fionna... Why are you? Do you not like me?"

Fionna grimaced, embarrassed, and feeling like a jerk.

"It's...you've..."

She glared, "You... You _left_, FK. And then you changed."

He looked hurt, but he was smiling too.

"Oh... I know, and I'm sorry for the first one, but it had to happen... As to the other..."

He leaned in again much more quickly, much less carefully; Fionna gasped as she started to feel the flames.

"Isn't change a good thing?"

She backed off, but he just kept coming closer.

"Hey, hey, hey, wait a min—!"

He smiled, "You changed too, you know. And it's...nice, it's such a nice change... And as for me..."

She fell back off the rock, was standing up, but he was right _there_.

"I think I changed for the _better, Fionna_..."

"_No, wait, you're gonna_—!"

"Trust me..."

Then the Flame King hugged her.

* * *

. . .

* * *

She felt his hands slightly dig into her shoulders as he didn't let her go, even when she struggled, even when she screamed and tried to claw him, his chin on her shoulder and their ears nearly squashed together and she felt his skin and _oh crap oh crap he was he was he was_...not...burning her?

She slowly settled down, and realized that rapid wheezing sound was her own breathing and his voice was in her ear.

"Fionna, Fionna, calm down, see? I'm not hurting you, please..." he told her over and over.

"_Ghgnrr_." she squeaked.

She felt...she felt warm, yeah, a lot warmer, and she saw his flames touching her, but they just felt like wafts of warm, dry air.

Not even her clothes were burning! Which would've, well, sucked, so yay?

"Wha...?" she said dumbly.

His arms slowly loosened, "It is okay? It worked?"

Now she shoved him away, and he let her go, "You mean you didn't _know_ that would work?!" she shrieked.

He raised his hands, placating, "No, no, no, I mean, I practiced! Trees! I practiced hugging trees so I could—!"

Then suddenly she was laughing, laughing and hyperventilating, "Oh, crap! Trees! Ha!" she laughed, now crying.

"Oh, crap, oh, _crap,_ you—you scared the _guts_ out of me, FK! You—!"

Now she was angry, "_Why didn't you freaking warn me, darn you?!_"

"Because I wanted to surprise you..." he mumbled, which he had apparently, technically achieved.

She stared.

"Ga-heh... Geh-ha-ha..." she laughed weakly. Then sat down on the rock.

For a moment they were both quiet.

"I..." Flame King began, "I...I don't understand, I thought it would make you happy..."

"Sorry," she sniffled, rubbing at her eyes, "Aw, nerts, FK..." she sighed.

She smiled a small one at him, "It...I guess it would, yeah, but..."

Fionna sighed again, "FK, you're—I guess I'm just confused."

She smiled up at him, now a bit strained, "You've still only been back a few days and, and you're doing all this 'stoking' stuff, and I think it's awesome, but I'm still getting used to it, and I guess, you. You're really not Flame Prince anymore."

He grinned proudly, "Isn't that a nice thing, though?"

Her smile quirked, and then she stood, and held out her hand, "Fionna the Human." she announced boldly.

He blinked, staring at her hand, and then her face, and then she gestured her hand to him, winking.

". . . Igni the Flame King." he stated proudly, carefully shaking her hand without burning it.

She blinked, and then grinning, said, "_Igni_? Igni the Tree-Hugger?"

He rolled his eyes, "I think it was worth it." he told her.

She smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Igni." she said.

He laughed, "The feeling is _quite _mutual, my princess." and then before she could pull it away, he kissed her hand.

It was a brief flash of dry warmth and pressure that tingled the sensitive skin around her hand's tendons.  
The air felt cooler than she was used to.

She blushed, quickly tugging her hand away, and he smirked.

"Th-that was, uh," she stammered, "We should go back!"

He nodded indulgently, "As you wish," linking his hands behind his head, and they didn't speak anymore on the hike homewards.

That smirk never left his face.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Later:

"How did you do that, anyway?"

"I'd told you I stabilized my matrix. Do you mean you hadn't listened?"

"I wasn't exactly in the mood to listen at the moment."

"Oh-h?"

"N-not like _that_, dude, I thought you were gonna _burn_ me! How did you not burn me?!"

"It's not that I wasn't burning so much as transferring heat, into the air, the earth, er, into you, even..."

". . . You mean you were cooking me?"

"Ugh, that sounds morbid, no, I was, ah, hm... Verbalizing the concept is less than...polite..."

"Ya lost me, man."

"It's—! Look, you know that heat is vibration, right?"

"You've talked to Gumball."

"If only to verify proper vocabulary. That. Is. All. Well, to lessen the heat of my own vibration, I...transfer it..."

"I don't get it."

"Do I have to spell it out?!"

"I'm sorry, I'm just not good at sci-speak!"

"Ergh! I...I transfer it by...by making other cells in my vicinity, including your own...v-vibrate..."

"Oh. . ."

". . ."

"Uh. . . Wanna change the subject now?"

"Oh glob, yes..."

They never spoke of it again.


	29. Simmer

In a big, wide world there is a land called Aaa, a land of fantastic things.

In the land of Aaa there is a valley of wicked, shadowy red mountains strewn with the remnants of the World Before War.

In one of these mountains there is a cave.

(The face of which by some is said to have been the very one of a giant demon who died and fossilized into rock.)

In this cave there is a house, a quaint relic from before the War, dark and gray, yet clean and well-kept.

In this house there are seven people,

a Vampire King,

a Fire King,

a Candy Prince,

a Monochromatic Unicorn,

a Magical Cat,

a Robot,

and a Human.

In these people were multitudes of things too myriad and messy to list, but chief among them was the feeling of unease.

Or at least, unease in the cases of the bipedal organic humanoids.

And some of these bipedal organic humanoids did not take uneasiness well.

. . .

Alright, _none_ of these bipedal organic humanoids took uneasiness well.

So, understandably, the bipedal organic humanoids in the house in the cave in the mountain in the valley in the land called Aaa were not exactly thrilled to be there. The Flame King sat sternly in the fireplace, arms crossed, while Beemo and Cake were playing a hand game. Monochro and Prince Gumball were 'talking' quietly in one corner, while Marshall Lee was honing his Axe in another corner to 'get a sharper tune', focusing scarily hard on the edge.

There was a thunderstorm outside of the cave, flooding the valley minute by minute, and it showed no signs of stopping.

Fionna tried her best to practice her mojo while they waited, but felt the awkwardness leaching her cool. She sighed to herself.

How had stuff gotten to this?

* * *

. . .

* * *

Just the other day, after she'd left Flame King—Igni—back with his pride, she decided to just wander.

After a while she noticed her hat felt weird, and she looked up to see the ears moving on their own, like antennae.

She grinned, "He-ey!"

Marshall appeared, making a face down at her, "Hey, yourself, Fifi! 'Bout freaking time!"

She swatted him away and he twirled himself through the air to look at her, keeping a hold on his hat.

"You actually going anywhere? I'm getting bored." he asked.

She rolled her eyes, "Nah, just walking." she told him, then she blinked.

"Uh, how long were you following me?"

"After I noticed you were finally _sans _Lame Kink." he laughed.

"Flame King."

"Nuance. So-o now that the life of the party is here, aka _me_, I found some sweet, dingy old mine shafts nearby. Wanna check 'em out?"

He grinned while she thought it over, "We'll be able to hang for the day without me wearing this old thing." he gestured to his hat.

She laughed, deciding, "Lead the way, man."

* * *

. . .

* * *

She looked in interest at the blue-green glowing patches of moss and plants here and there as they went deeper.

Marshall scraped his Axe along a vein of rock, throwing up blue sparks in his wake.

He checked the edge, whistling appreciatively, "Found my wicked new whetstones!"

She clapped from a safe distance as he began hacking off chunks of the rock in flashes of blue light.

"Thinking of sparks," he grunted, hefting his Axe back, over, and down. _Krrreeshsh!_

"—how's—"

_Skrang!_

"—Hotshot—"

_Skree-ee!_

"—treatin' ya?"

_CRACK!_

"Woo!"

He knelt down to sort through the fragments, and got Fionna to help him.

"It's alright..." she said carefully, "Hey, here's a good one. Um... He's...grown up a lot, I guess?"

"Too thin." he noted, "You think so?" he grumbled, and blinked when she stared at him.

"Uh, I mean..." he mumbled, "Well, dang, Fio, _I_ can't help thinking he's a jerkwad!"

She couldn't help a wry smile, remembering walking in on the 'meeting', "Yeah... You two really don't like each other, do you?"

She held up a sliver in the plant-light, squinting at it.

"Well, no, not really." Marshall laughed nervously. "But there's really nothing to do for that," he told her bluntly, "He's an 'honored guest' thanks to his freaking ambassador status. I'm a dude, yeah, but I'm also a King. I know whose toast the butter's on. Here, gimme that one."

She handed him a larger shard of rock, turning her own tiny piece of it over and over in her fingertips.

Marshall got a small pile going before he spoke up again, focusing on the rocks, "He ask you out yet?"

The tiny, now known to be delicate shard was crushed between her thumb and forefinger, finely splintering into the flesh.

Her yelp was something like "_OWDANGIT!_"

"Ah, crap, sorry-sorry-sorry!" the vampire stammered out as Fionna held her hand, whimpering.

"Is fine." she mumbled, shaking out her hand, they both clearly seeing the slivers of rock stuck in her fingertips which was _so_ not fine.

"Stupid question!" he backtracked, even as he grabbed her hand and yanked it toward him, demon eyes wide in the semi-darkness.

"I can do it!" she protested as his fingers closed over one sliver.

His glowing red-iris eyes glared at her, "Yeah? How good can you see in the dark, doll face?"

She glared back, "Good en—_ouch_!" she hissed as he yanked one out, and then she felt the wetness on her fingertip that he could probably see.

They both paused, she staring at him, he staring at her hand.

"I-I can do it myself, Marsh, geez..." she mumbled, tugging at her hand, but his grip tightened.

She winced.

"M-Marshall? Seriously, it's just freaking splinters!" she protested, and he blinked.

He snickered, easing his grip a little, "Aw, be quiet. You can barely _see _some of these! Don't clench your hand, dangit, they'll go deeper..."

He yanked out a couple more, despite her protests, and more wetness beaded up from her skin.  
But when he did nothing but pick them out, Fionna slowly relaxed, but with a vicious blush on her face.

When he was checking her hand for more rock splinters, wiping away the blood beads, Fionna spoke up.

"W-why aren't you...?"

"Hmm?"

He grinned at her when she was quiet, "Why aren't I _what_?"

He dropped her hand, and she rubbed it absently, "You know..." she muttered.

He laughed, "Because I'm an awesome dude? Or a freaking chromatarian?"

When she still looked a bit stubbornly confused, he shrugged, smile quirking, "Would you have tried to stop me?"

She blinked, and he could honestly see her _seriously_ thinking it over...

"I think so, yeah." she finally admitted, and he felt a bit of pride for her shamelessness. She was so _real_.

He pointed at her, "Then that's why."

She stared at him as he stood up, brushing off his jeans.

He looked at the pile of rocks he'd collected, then back to her.

"Here, if you wanna pay me back, let's put these little beauties in your backpack." he told her, smirking.

She laughed.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Hey..." she began a while later, as they discovered another tunnel, this time with glowing bugs in it.

Fortunately these weren't fireflies, but lightning bugs, and their zap was little more than a static shock.

"Hmm?" he asked, walking on the ceiling.

"Er... If..." she was nervous, "If I'd _let _you...you know...would you?"

He paused, and was silent, and she stammered, "That was a stupid—!"

"In a freaking heartbeat, babe."

She stopped and looked up, seeing glowing red dots stare down at her from the dark.

She thought she saw the white glint of a smile, "In one, _quick_ li'l heartbeat. Why?"

Suddenly he was in her face, "_Are you offering?_" he purred.

Her mouth opened soundlessly, making a sound like 'urk', and then he stuck his tongue out at her, laughing.

"Psyche!"

She blushed, trying to hit him, but he flew out of reach.

"You—!"

"Don't use that tone with me, _princess_. You tempted me." he told her, sneering, "That's a very mean thing of you, Fionna."

She grumbled, blushing as she rubbed her hand, "Sorry." she mumbled, "I was just curious..."

"Oh-h, that's a bad thing to be, little girl..." he told her quietly, a grin spreading freakishly wide on his face.

"Curiosity caught the kitty cat..." Before she could snap something back he flew off again.

"Ooh, hey, shiny thing!" he cackled.

She rolled her eyes and followed him, blush quietly fading.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall rounded a curve in the tunnel when he was sure he lost her.

He stared at the opposite wall and then sank his teeth into his own arm, easing it just enough to not break the skin.

_Little tease, little tease, little freaking **tease**..._

He growled around his arm, muffled, feeling the points of his fangs dig into flesh that wasn't hers.

_Little blush, little heartbeat, little bits of the true red RIGHT FLIPPING THERE..._

_Stupid little questions as if she had to freaking ask...!_

_Can't really be so freaking innocent, that little—!_

He heard footsteps pounding down the tunnel.

Crap, the girl runs fast!

He made one of his scariest faces, scaring her as she rounded the curve, and having a good laugh as he made her shriek.

Her heart thumped from her running and her shock.

_Little tease. _

"Gotcha!" he chuckled.

_Serves her right._

She tried to hit him, then he dodged, and she tried to hit him again, and missed, and began chasing him.

_Ooh! Playtime!_

They chased each other through the tunnels, through crystal caves, chambered stone pools, spiders' nests, snake pits, through the dark, through glowy-glowy stuff, sometimes he'd chase, sometimes she would, sometimes one would get the drop on the other without quite winning, fist playfully hitting flesh, wrestling without strangling, running without leaving behind, chasing without catching, and he felt the freaky beat in his beast blood begin to rise again.

He caught her, this time shoving her up against the ceiling.

"You know you can't _really _beat me..." he told her, grinning as she struggled, trying to hit him, but gravity kept her from giving any good punches or kicks. One of his hands pinned her up by her stomach while the other held her up by a shoulder, careful to not let anything more than his hands touch.

The potential, warm, _soft_ weight of her felt nice. He dug his fingers into her stomach a bit, making her laugh helplessly.

He grinned, quietly comparing a certain girl's body to a certain guy's.

Even Gumball wasn't _this_ soft...

Then she began messing with her backpack, and then he saw scissors snap shut near his face, breaking the moment.

He yelped, dropping her, and then yelped again, but she landed on her feet, like a freaking _cat_, smirking up at him.

"Victory!" she declared, waving the little scissors in his direction.

He snarled, "Not cool, compadre!"

"All's fair!" she told him, and he smirked when he realized how she neatly avoided finishing the sentence.

He then grinned, "That so?" and turned invisible.

He laughed as she whined, watching her spin around quickly.

And then he kept very, _very_ quiet...

She was nervous, now, very nervous. She was backing up bit by bit, and he could practically see her ears straining.

"M-Marshall?" she called out.

He chuckled, the chick was cracking.

He went around, behind her, brushing her backpack.

He watched her whirl around to hit nothing but air and it was so hilariously cute, and dangit he was _giggling_.

He tugged on her hat this time, then shoved her a bit when her back was turned, giggling like a nutcase.

"This isn't funny, dangit!" she shouted.

"Then why am I laughing?" he asked near her ear. He flew up as she rounded again, "Ooo, _so_ close!"

She snarled, and then took her backpack off to rummage through it again.

Instead of wanting to see what she was doing, he quickly picked her up and away from her precious arsenal.

"Aagh!" she yelped, squirming.

He kept her in a lock from behind, still invisible, and to anyone else it would've looked like she was just floating.

He felt her slump, and practically heard her pout, "Fi-ine, I lose. P-put me down."

He floated a bit higher, feeling her weight try to bring him back down to ground, grinning into the back of her hat.

"Say that I own you." he told her, smirking.

"What?!" she snapped.

"Say that I own you!" he repeated happily, "Say it!"

"N-no way, man, just put me down already! Please!" she protested. There was a difference between losing and being owned.

"Nuh-uh. I can do this all day, Fifi." he told her, "C'mo-on, three little words is all it'll take..." he purred.

But the girl was stubborn.

She tried kicking her legs, straightening her arms, being a dead weight, and even tried to headbutt him, but it only tired her out.

He chuckled as she slumped again in his hold, and heard her mumble something.

"What was that?" he asked, moving close to her ear, "Couldn't catch that."

"Y-you own me..." she growled. He kept in his shudder.

"Can't he-ear yo-ou..." he sang.

"You own me, dangit!" she shouted angrily.

"Again! Louder!" he laughed.

Fionna exploded, "YOU OWN ME, YOU OWN ME, YOU FREAKING DANG OWN ME!" she hollered.

"NOW LET ME GO BEFORE I FREAKING _PULVERIZE_ YOU—YOU FREAKING LEECH!"

And he did, and promptly got a punch in the gut that made him knock his head against the wall.

"Worth it..." he ground out, trying to rank whether his head or his guts hurt more.

He settled for his guts when she punched him again, "That was _mean_, Marshall!" she told him angrily, before stomping off to her backpack.

He chuckled weakly, sitting up to watch her back.

He then noticed she was wiping at her face a bit, and the mood fell.

He winced. Aw, crud. Did he make her cry?

He floated around carefully, and yup, her eyes looked a bit red.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and she glared at him.

"That was mean, and not funny," she snapped, "And I'm _fine_."

He flinched again, not sure how to handle this as she got up her stuff and stomped on.

An apology? Nah, she'd still be ticked, and she didn't really take him seriously with those things.

Appeasement? Yeah, that'd do something.

"He can come." he blurted out.

That made her stop and turn around, and look confused at him.

"Huh?"

He felt his grin twitch at the corners and threaten to bare his teeth.

"F-Flame King can...come to...the next fracking Casual Tea... _At-my-place_..." he ground out, keeping the rictus of a smile on his face.

She blinked at him, and laughed drily, "Pfft, Marshall Lee, you..."

She rubbed the back of her head, "I honestly hadn't thought about taking him..." she admitted.

He kept the stony smile on his face, meanwhile thinking 'Crap.'

"But thanks for letting me know, and...sorry for freaking out like that..." she said, blushing.

He simultaneously thought 'Crap.' and 'Fionna is apologizing to me and blushing about it! Woohoo!'

"You're sure?" she asked.

"It'll be _swell!_" he gritted out, lips not moving. 'Like a swollen joint!'

She laughed, not buying his grimace, but buying his offer, "Sorry, Marshall. Thanks."

She walked with him this time, playfully shoving, her smile lopsided, "He'll...I'm sure he'll ease up by then..."

_Oh, he freaking better..._

They made it back out by sunset, and Marshall Lee carefully kept to the shadows.

"That was cool." she told him, and he realized she'd gotten ahold of a lot of the glowy plant stuff they'd found down there.

"What's all that for?" he asked.

"It seems like cool stuff to have around the Tree," she said, and then blushed, "And I thought GB might like some of it, too."

Marshall went blank-faced. The dude probably would.

"Yeah, didn't think of that." he admitted, staring at her. Why didn't _he_ think of that?

She made a makeshift sling and put the 'whetstones' and some of the plants in it.

"When you run into him, be sure to let him know I say hi, okay?" she told a stunned Marshall Lee, giving it to him.

"And warn him about Igni coming."

"Okay, sure, cool." he mumbled. _She couldn't really **know**, could she?_

"Thanks again! G'night, Marshall!"

He watched her leave, slightly struck dumb.

The something clicked.

". . . Hey, wait, what the—_'Igni'?!"_ he shouted.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Everybody was all stiff when she'd brought him along, and then the storm had come in, and you could just feel the stiffness solidify.

Fionna was embarrassed now. This had been a bad idea. Marshall was being patient, but she could see it was hard on him. Gumball and Igni had assured each other that this visit wasn't gonna be related to politics, and was simply 'socialization', but GB was nervous, she could tell.

And Flame King was, well, the humid pre-rain air wore on him, so he wasn't in a very good mood to begin with, and had a hard time coping.

And they were all essentially stuck there until the storm passed.

Fionna felt like she'd ruined Casual Tea.

. . . Then she'd darn well better do something to fix it!

"Jam!" she stated, standing up quickly, and felt everyone's eyes turn around to stare at her.

"I-I mean...we should...jam..." she continued, coming out less coolly than it'd gone in her head.

"That's the theme today, right?!" she shouted, then whirled to Marshall, "You've got your Axe."

She pointed to Beemo, who saluted, "You go to GB!"

Monochro already gotten his harp out from somewhere, while Cake got her hammered dulcimer.

She turned to Flame King, who'd blinked at the assembly from the fireplace, "Do you have something, Igni?" she asked.

He managed to smile, "Is there a fully metal round-shield no one would miss?"

All of them blinked.

"Gimme a mo, _Majesty_." Marshall said, grudgingly curious, before flying out a window.

They all waited, some nervously shuffling on their feet, paws, or hooves, before he returned, drenched head to toe.

"Déjà vu." he commented sourly, causing Fionna to giggle, before hurling the shield like a frisbee at the other King.

The Flame King caught it smoothly with a smirk, any dampness on the metal rising as steam as the section around his hand began to glow red-hot, and already he showed his control as the entire thing began to glow as a solid mass without falling apart.

He sat cross-legged in the fireplace while he shaped the metal without melting it, everybody watching with interest.

He made it curve more to look like a large bowl, and then did something to make the thick metal _balloon _while he spun it, making it now look more like the flying toy saucers the Space People played with, and then set it on the brickwork to let it cool. As it did, he began shaping the top, giving it more shape like a turtle shell, giving it facets, and using his thumb to put a slight dent in the middle of each facet with his thumb, and then let the heat of it go away as he looked it over. When it seemed to his liking he sat the finished thing on his crossed legs, not melting it, and looked at them all proudly.

". . . It's a UFO." Marshall stated, and Flame King frowned, "It's a Sound Shell, vampire!"

And then he played it.*****

His hands beat against the facets like a drum, making each one glow red and throw up sparks as he did, throwing up such a primal, yet complex bell-like tune that Fionna felt herself feel like dancing. Gumball soon joined in to the pleasing rhythm with an electrical techno-crooning from Beemo's circuitry, and Marshall Lee set up the main tune with his Axe while Monochro and Cake became the back-up instrumentals with their percussionist strings.

Fionna took up the vocal, at times using her voice or the miniature computer. She didn't sing any words, but instead gave her voice up to vowels that mixed, contrasted, and blended with the music, a grin tugging at her face as everyone got into it.

Even the cracking of thunder sounded like accompaniment as they went on to more music, everyone experimenting with being the lead, either coming up with random things or teaching Igni some of their songs, and vice versa. At snack time, even the Flame King got some firecrackers and something _en flambe _to eat, thanks to Gumball. The tension was pretty much gone now, and even Marshall seemed to have fun.

But then Fionna noticed some things that kind of took away from the fun.

Usually at one Casual Tea they'd talk about the next one, but no one seemed inclined to. And when she tried to talk to Marshall or Gumball about it, Flame King would try to listen in too, and then Gumball or Marshall would be less talkative.

And then when the Flame King talked to her, neither of the other guys joined in, and actually fell out of the conversation when he started speaking. That, and the Flame King wouldn't really leave Fionna alone the entire evening. Fionna was confused, and a little bit hurt. She could clearly see that Marshall thought the Flame King was being rude, so why didn't he do anything? Even GB would've tried to say something to distract FK, but he'd only...sort of smile...

She thought Flame King would've commented on their standoffishness, but he just kept talking...

Fionna decided to keep her thoughts to herself to look them over later.

* * *

**.**

* * *

***** For those of you who might not know, the 'Sound Shell' is an actual instrument.

It is called a Spacedrum, and creates very unique music.

For examples of how it sounds, you may look on YouTube for:

**Francis Ferrié — Deep Sky Scale; **and** Song for Dust**

and

**Yuki Koshimoto — Spacedrum Solo**

Thank you!

(And if this violates anything, I don't own anything, and you can't make me! All credit goes to the musicians! Thank you!)

* * *

**. **

* * *

"I don't like doing this, GB... It kinda feels like we're brushing her off."

"Just trust me. You spent time with her today?"

"Yeah, it was...cool, I guess. She teased me."

"She _what?_"

"Ah-ha, not intentionally, I don't think. And don't sound so happy, it's freaky! Hey, she got you this...this glowy thing, here, take it.

And she says hi. So, hi."

"Oh? . . . Oh, this looks fascinating..."

". . . Hey, Bubba?"

"Hm?"

"I might not agree to a lot of it, but I think your plan's...good."

". . . Thank you, Marshall."

* * *

. . .

* * *

**Author's note:** _The next chapter may be delayed for a while, as things on my end are going to be a bit up in the air for a few days. Thank you for your patience and your patronage! Your reviews are very much welcome!_


	30. Flashpoint

"Seriously, Bubba..." Marshall said another evening, as he looked over the Prince's papers with, as usual, little regard for privacy.

It was a trait that Gumball at times found annoyingly endearing, but in this case, it was just annoying.

"What?" he asked, grudgingly letting himself be shoved aside as Marshall moved a hand over his desk.

"This..." the vampire frowned at a blueprint he picked up, squinting as he held it upside-down, "Doesn't look like diplomacy work..."

"It is," Gumball protested, snatching it back, "It's just not from the more conventional practices of the art, is all."

He shuffled it back into file, trying to hide any other important things from those condemningly keen demon eyes.

He kept glancing back at the file while feeling said eyes drill curiously into his back. He tried to look busy with something else, or even just drawing a sketch, but felt a migraine develop, regardless, as nothing bored Marshall this time.

"And I'm having a hard time concentrating on _any _work if you keep staring," he finally snapped, turning to face his friend, "Is my crown so askew to you now that my works hold no merit, or was my explanation of 'I am busy' not satisfying your blasted curiosity? _What, Marshall?!_"

His irritation was further aggravated as Marshall Lee tilted his head in a decidedly _mockingly_ naïve manner.

"All work and no play makes GB a crazy boy..." the vampire finally chuckled, eyes narrowing, "I thought diplomacy was supposed to _avoid_ hostility, but here I find He-Who-Can-Do-No-Wrong developing _weapons_ on me... What's the matter? The 'heat's' finally gettin' to ya?"

"They're precautions," Gumball told him flippantly, turning back, "And are concerning the Candy Kingdom. Not you."

"Hmmm..." Gumball felt him hum against his shoulder, "I want in."

". . ." Gumball bowed his head forward, sighing. "No."

The hum against his shoulder turned to a hum against his neck.

". . . No?" he heard the vampire growl.

Then he snapped his head back, quick and hard, and felt and _heard _it connect with something with a satisfying _smack_.

"_MGGRFGHNNAAAGH! You little—RRRNGH!_"

Gumball rubbed the back of his head, wincing at the sting, and filtering Marshall's muffled swearing.

He smiled to himself. Payback really _was_ sweet.

"Out of the question," the Candy Prince continued calmly, "You're bad enough as it is without _my_ encouragement."

He felt claws grasp the back of his chair and it was flung back, driving the air out of his lungs and sending a shock through his spine.

"_Guh_—!"

Marshall grinned down at him harshly, dark, dried _something_ making a trail down his face from his nose, "Do I look discouraged, Bubba?"

"You, frankly, look like an eyesore right now," Gumball replied wearily, glaring up at his friend, "Can't I do my plotting in peace?"

Marshall Lee laughed, making a literally wolfish face at him.

"Plotting and peace don't belong together, Majesty," he pointed out, changing back, "You're planning to take out Sparky!"

"No, I'm not," Gumball groaned, getting up carefully and feeling the clicks and crackles in his spine.

"Oh-ho, yes you are! Yes you freaking are!"

He ignored the older man as he straightened out the chair, "You should go into chiropractic." he continued to comment drily.

Marshall snatched up the blueprint Gumball had tucked away, brandishing it in the Candy Prince's face, "You're studying Flame people fire, and how it works, and-and...!" he flung it back on the desk, his grin manic, "And you're holding out on me?! I want in!"

Before Gumball could protest Marshall leaned in again, "C'mon, c'mon, really, the Vampires and the Candy Kingdom are sort of technical allies from a newbie observer's generous standpoint, so it can't hurt anything! What're ya planning?!"

"This isn't one of your stuffing _pranks_, Marshall!" Gumball finally got in, shoving him to drift out of the way, storming back to his desk, "It really is a _precaution_, and anything you do might endanger the Plan again, or _Fionna herself_, for Glob's sake!"

Marshall blinked, "Say what now?"

Gumball really was agitated, now that Marshall thought about it. While he'd been getting into the 'casual wear' pretty well, it was starting to look a bit grungy, and he'd taken to wearing his lab coat a lot more lately when he wasn't doing other stuff.

And he looked really, really _worried _now.

Marshall took a breath, and sighed, "Okay. Okay, okay, okay, I'll speak as a bro now. About the Plan. What's going on, GB?"

Gumball was quiet, for maybe a moment or two, and then turned to Marshall with a wry smile.

"I'm sorry to say this, but at least for now this is involving more than our Plan, which I'd hoped wouldn't happen..." he sighed.

Gumball sat back, watching the vampire, and looked, to Marshall, nervous.

"I can't confide in you right now," Gumball admitted, "But can I count on your allegiance later?"

"Sure thing." Marshall drawled, "But can't you fill me in a _little_?"

"I can give you context." Gumball admitted after a thoughtful pause, and then looked up at the ceiling as Marshall drifted there.

"You wonder why I'm not a King, for one thing." he pointed out, as the vampire bobbed up there like balloon.

A vicious, violent, demon-spawned balloon.

"Eh," he shrugged, "It's just that you've been _Prince_ Bubba Gumball for freaking ever."

Gumball laughed, "Yes, haven't I?"

He twiddled his thumbs, frowning at a stain on his coat sleeve, ". . . What do you know about my family, Marshall?"

* * *

. . .

* * *

"You're very quiet, princess..." he told her.

They were sitting on the rock again, the one where he'd shown her more of the things he could do. Now he was just trying to show her how close he could get now, but this strangely didn't make her happy. And he noticed, he didn't say it outright, but he noticed.

"You didn't used to be this quiet..." he continued.

". . . I'm sorry," she mumbled, chin on her hands as they watched the fire lions. "I've never really been good at 'just talking'."

She looked over at him hopefully, "Do—uh—do you wanna try to go exploring again? Like we used to?"

He glanced at her, and then back to his pride, "Why don't you want to talk, Fionna?" he sighed, not answering her.

"There's-there's a lot we _can _talk about now," he continued, his fingers playing nervously with each other, "There's a lot I want to tell you now, you know. Stop pretending that you don't know." He frowned, flames dimming a bit sulkily, "So why can't we?"

She was frowning now, too, hating being put on the spot.

"We talked before, didn't we?" she protested, "We already had that conversation. But we had fun. Why can't we have fun again, huh?"

"Because we were _children_." he snapped, "And what I said as a child isn't what I want to say as a man, Fionna. I've grown, _for you_, and I was hoping you'd grown too and..." he finally looked at her, something wistful on his face, "And I thought my growing would make you happy. Why aren't you happy?"

She stared at him, and then rubbed her forehead.

"For _me?_" she repeated, finally giving up, standing up to glare down at him.

"That shouting, that stupid argument, that leaving me without even a goodbye for _four freaking years_ was for_ me? HAPPY?!_"

"Fionna..." he protested, but she was already stomping away.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Too...freaking...complicated..." she snarled to herself, shoving foliage out of the way. "Happy?! Stupid! I can't think!"

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall held up a finger, mouth open, then his mouth closed. He opened it again, then shut it, blinking.

". . . I got nothin'." he said bluntly, slight shock glazing his face.

Gumball watched with wry amusement as the vampire 'paced' on the ceiling.

"I've been here _forever_..." Marshall muttered, "I met you, yeah, we hooked up, there were parents, maybe? Kid Fionna, and—ah!"

He pointed, "You mentioned an Aunt!"

"Great-Aunt Taffy, yes, who lived into the next generation," Gumball said, "But died of old age. She would have been an exceedingly renowned agriculturalist if not for her suddenly feverish enthusiasm when dealing with an orchard of candy apple trees.  
Now she's just someone I don't talk about much, except for mentioning that incident."

Marshall stared.

Gumball sighed, "And you knew my parents, briefly enough for you, I suppose. Peppermint Maid could tell you about them in more detail, as she's been here I don't know how long. I only knew them as Mum and Dad. And of my grandparents I have only the vaguest of memories."

He smiled, "You won't find my family tree, either. A lot of the ancestral roots are long faded away from _any _record, which is interesting, considering how their lives, livelihoods, and even some of their deaths were so spectacular. My family is 'cursed', Marshall."

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna stood in place crossly, expressing this crossness by crossing her arms and even her fingers as the lion pride circled her, meowing pitifully, flaming fitfully, as they waited for their leader to catch up. And he did, hovering above her, singed leaves flaking to ash around him.

"I didn't mean it like that, so don't leave," he explained irritably, "Yes, it was bad, but-but isn't this _better_?"

She waved the ash flakes away from her face, "In some ways, yeah, but this is also new. We need to learn how to be friends again, first," she told him, "And you're kinda making that hard."

"_You're _the one who's making this hard!" he shouted, his flames flaring, and his pride dashed away, hissing.

He calmed down quickly, having seen her flinch, "Sorry, sorry, I—aw, _shrap_..."

He landed, keeping a respectable distance, "I just, I want, there's nothing wrong, now, Fionna.  
I'm here again, I can _touch _you now, isn't that what we needed?"

"It wasn't about the—"

He glanced at her, interrupting, "Why won't you touch me now that you can?"

Fionna stared at him, and sighed, rubbing her forehead as she leaned against a tree, "Just because I _can _now, doesn't mean that I _should_." she mumbled, "Crappy, I know, but that's just how I'm feeling right now, and..."

She chuckled, "Dang. We were arguing a lot, weren't we? And...and you're cool now, I can really see how much you changed..."

She held up a finger before he could speak, and her grin was desperately tugging at her face, "But you could'a taken me along, you know...?"

She jabbed her finger forward again when he moved as if to hug her, "No, no, Igni, let me talk now, I wanna talk now...!"

"Maybe I don't want to talk any more," he said quietly, smiling, but his hands were burning the tree on either side of her shoulders, "That doesn't seem to get us anywhere, so maybe..." he chuckled a bit anxiously, leaning in, "I didn't know you missed me so much, Fionna..."

She swallowed, and then ducked under his arm, wincing at the flames that brushed against her, they didn't hurt, but still.

"I'm serious!" she protested, stumbling awkwardly on one foot, her speed throwing off her balance, "Let me think for a second!"

He wasn't smiling as much any more, glaring at her from his shoulder.

"I could give you something to think about." he suggested, moving at her again.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"It's not something I want to delve too deeply in at the present," Gumball told him, "But what am I, Marshall, biologically?"

"Uh..." Marshall thought it over, "A human-bubblegum hybrid. A Candy Person."

The Candy Prince nodded, smiling, "My DNA and lineage are rather unique for a Candy Person, since I still have traces of my human ancestry."

"And they're very cute traces, too."

He rolled his eyes, smirking, then shook his head quickly.

"Anyway, you know how sugar affects Fionna, yes?"

Marshall Lee chuckled, "Hilariously."

"Yes, well, in her case, it is because her biological _human_ make-up has a set content of certain sugars, natural ones, and the introduction of the unnatural sugars will put her into a certain mania, if you will, because her body and brain attempt to adapt."

Then he gestured to himself, "My own body has equal levels of natural and 'unnatural' sugars, human and candy, which can flux at times, due to the instability of my 'unnatural' sugars. That is why I will sometimes have my episodes of neurosis, or my mania. And in the case of my lineage, and the 'curse', any member of the Gumball family will constantly have the Sugar High or the Sugar Crash, both of which can be equally disastrous or beneficial."

Then he grimaced, "And here we get to the squicky stuff. Marshall, what are my hobbies?"

The vampire snapped his fingers, "Ooh! Know this one! Cooking, and your precious hard-to-pin-down 'science' junk."

Gumball nodded patiently, "Correct. And what are my subjects made of?"

Marshall Lee blinked at him, "Uh, candy?"

Gumball stared at him, and then something in Marshall's head went _click._

"Ingredients...?"

Gumball nodded again, gently.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"_Stop running **away** from me, dangit!_" she heard him shout.

"Stop crowding me!" she shouted back.

"_What did I do?!_"

"You—!" she yelped as a fireball landed in her path, tripping her up, and she rolled back up to her feet, but he was there _again_.

And he looked very mad, his flames were sharp and snapping.

"I thought you'd grown up too!" he repeated angrily, "I'm tired of playing games!"

"And I'm tired of playing house!" she growled back, and then threw up her hands, "Fine, not running, see? Just let me talk!"

"_House_?!" he parroted, but scowled when she glared at him, crossing his arms, "Fine."

She nodded angrily, but breathed in, and out, in, and out, trying to think of the words she wanted him to hear.

"Okay," she gestured a box with her hands, "Us, before? It-it was nice, FK, it was _fun_. B-but we were really just playing house, right? I mean, I made you a house and tried Tiers and stuff and we played in dungeons. But we never played real house before with anybody or seen anyone play it before so we didn't know what to do if the house wasn't so homey, like when we... Like when you..."

"Nearly destroyed myself and the world after kissing you, which became the crux of our arguments?" he asked, smiling drily.

She blushed, "Y-yeah, that, but..." she shook her head, "I know that we couldn't do all the stuff other people got to. But I thought..."

She rubbed her arm, "I thought we could still be together even without that, that it was _okay_, but..."

She sighed, gesturing to him, "That's what we argued about right? How we were both weird?

That we were 'half-baked couple'? A 'shorted-out sparking'?" she quoted, laughing nervously.

He looked away at that, frowning slightly. "And we..." she rubbed her face, "We didn't really know how to 'nice-argue'." she admitted.

"And then you left, without me," she told him, and before he could interrupt, she continued, "And then you grew up, but _without_ _me_. I'm happy for you, Igni, really, and I'm happy that you're back, but you're not the Flame Prince who was my boyfriend.  
And I'm not the Fionna who was your girlfriend.  
We didn't get to see who we were growing into, so—aw, this sounded _so_ much cooler in my head..."

She shrugged helplessly, ". . . I'm sorry, Igni..."

"Then why don't you let me try?" he asked quietly, "Why aren't you giving me a chance?"

She shook her head, and stared at him. He'd gotten a lot taller. Almost as tall as Gumball. She thought about it.

"You _had it_." she told him simply, blinking, "It might not have been as nice as we wanted but you _had _it.  
I thought that was enough, me loving you.

But...but you..."

She rubbed at her eyes viciously, scowling, "Dangit, th-this was supposed to be cool! You _left, _okay?!"

Then she felt a warmer-than-normal hand pull her hand away, and then felt her tears dry out into salt against her skin.

She blinked, and the tears were drying in her eyes, making them sting, "Y-you...left..."

She felt carefully on her face with her free hand, feeling those dried tears grit like sleepy stuff on her skin.

"But I'm back. And I don't burn you any more, see?" he said gently, persistently.

He was lightly pressing his thumb against her cheekbone, just under her eye, where a tear fell on it and hissed softly.

He smiled, "And now you can't hurt me, not even your tears hurt me anymore..."

He was close now, that their noses were almost touching, and she stared.

"This will make it worth it..." he told her, angling his head carefully.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall Lee laughed, albeit a bit nervously, "C'mon, seriously, you really think you're all 'mad scientist' material?"

Gumball considered it, "I've had a lot of thoughts to the matter," he admitted, "But I do think I have the makings for psychosis. My family has, on both sides, so it makes sense that I would as well. Oh, the ramifications vary, the severity uncertain, but it does happen. For instance, my mother had an obsession with music. She was a virtuosa in many instruments. She once beat a conductor fit to hospitalization, with his own baton, after he'd given a less than satisfactory performance. And she was a notorious and rather brutal critic for orchestras, literally brutal. She died naturally." he chuckled, "My father, now, he was taken with the implications of flight, and it had gotten to the point where he'd wanted to grant the _natural_ ability to fly to his people. My people. And him, being a _King_, could order his subjects to 'volunteer' as test groups to be administered the procedures to gain flight, by any means, which went from surgical alterations to reconstruction from the DNA up. He died in a hang-gliding incident in the Grass Lands, which I'm not certain was accidental." Gumball leaned back, smiling, "And here I am, making weapons from _food_ and exploring the wonderful science of _recipes_. What's to stop me from making warriors? Or even _better food? _Cooking is an alchemy, life is a recipe I can read and _tweak_, the whole wonderful world could be my pantry!"

He laughed, and then tilted his head as Marshall's eyes looked blown, "Kidding." he chuckled.

"Really," he leaned forward as Marshall still looked shell-shocked, "Marshall, I'm _kidding_. I'm too _sweet_ for such unsavory violence, too logical to go through with such a thing, and my own position hinders me. A Prince can't pass laws that requires a citizen to, say, donate his left arm.

A King could.

But not a Prince."

He smiled gently, "I've learned from my parents' mistakes, so I'm not going to give myself power I can abuse."

He chuckled, "I'm too scared to!"

There was a few beats of silence between them.

Marshall Lee stared, then he laughed too, "Yeah, next thing you know you'll be speaking German all the time."

Gumball kept chuckling, getting it, "Yeah, yeah, and Fionna will constantly be foiling my plans."

"But then, lo, it was _I_ was the villain all along!" Marshall exclaimed. "Muahahahaha!"

"That is hardly a laugh befitting a villain borne of a plot-twist."

"Oh, like you could do better."

The Candy Prince grinned at the vampire, and then laughed.

And laughed.

And _laughed_.

The vampire stared as the laughter died down, pupils as wide as frisbees as he looked at him.

"I think I freaking _love_ it when you're crazy."

Gumball's planning was severely set back after this point, but the young royal didn't really mind.

Well, except for one detail...

". . . Marshall?"

"Mmm?"

"Really, Marshall, just-just wash your face already, please. I don't know if that's blood or not, but, ew..."

Marshall Lee laughed.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The air practically hissed around the Flame King as he flew, leaving behind the clearing and what felt like a good bit of his insides.

His eyes felt like they were stinging.

_She led him on._

* * *

. . .

* * *

_"It won't. I can't. Just, no, I'm **sorry**..." she told him, ducking away from his advance._

_"Why?" he finally snapped, fingers almost digging into her shoulder, pressing against her face._

_"Why?! I thought you loved me," he went on, holding on when she tried to wriggle away._

_"Igni..."_

_"What am I not doing, Fionna? I can touch you, you can touch me, I have power, I'm a KING!"_

_"IGNI!"_

_"Is it someone else?!" he asked, feeling his flames snap and twist, but not burn, never burn, "Is there someone better than me? Is that it?"_

_"You're hurting me!"_

_He startled back, and then he saw the faint shape of a hand on her skin, the smoking of the fabric on her shoulder._

_"I. . . I thought you still loved me..." he mumbled again, backing away._

_"I did." she sniffed, picking at the charred threads, not looking at him, and that hurt, "I **do**. But I'm not **in it **anymore..."_

_Something inside him seemed to wrench._

_"B-but I'm a King..." he told her again, and then she did look up at him, but it didn't make him hurt any less._

_"But you're not **you**..." she told him simply, and then he realized her tears **could **still hurt him._

_He jerked back, as good as if she'd slapped him, and maybe it would've been better if she did, but she just looked away again._

_"Igni, I didn't mean—"_

_"No," he snapped, feeling hurt turn to something else, "Fine. It's... Fine, fine, FINE!"_

_And then he left her._

* * *

. . .

* * *

He seethed, feeling like a comet, as that something else turned into a vicious, broiling _burn_ in his stomach.

His flames didn't flare any more than usual, though they were a bit more red. He was a comet, a heated core in a trail of flame.

He'd heard of broken hearts being cold or chilled, and while his hurt, it wasn't cold. It _burned_.

So this was what burning felt like.

He breathed out as he landed, drawing his flames in, keeping it in.

His matrix was stable. Emotion was a feeling, not an effect.

And he felt angry.

His pride found him, surrounded him, purring like thunder as they rubbed their furry, flaming sides against him.

He stood there, hands brushing through manes and pelts, crackling with sparks that snapped like electricity and whizzed into the sky.

The kits tumbled on the earth turning to charcoal and ash, circling like a veritable whirlpool of living flame around him.

He growled lowly, and they rumbled in return.

He roared, and they all of them scattered into a tumbling play of war, paws swatting, jaws catching, but skin not breaking, and claws all sheathed. He wrestled with the largest of his kin, they both snarling and struggling in the mock play for power.

He won, proving his dominance again for the pride.

He bared his teeth, as even the confirmation of his status didn't satisfy this acid burning.

They settled in the midst of their playground, and he looked at the dry blackness and the patches of flame, and felt a pang for home.

Not his place of birth, but a home. Perhaps the fire fields, where his pride had often roamed. That had felt the closest to such a place.

Then he thought: no. He wouldn't be happy there, either, for even then he'd itched for the house she'd made. For her.

Perhaps he really was a comet, in the wrong body, forever moving until burnt out.

He leaned back in the pile of living, glowing fur, finally smiling that smile he'd gotten when he'd decided to rebel.

Perhaps he could take some things with him, for when he burned out.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Really, though," Marshall said later. His face had been cleaned at Gumball's insistence and his resistance.

"You said he has control over his matrix thing, right? Why are you worried?"

"Having control isn't the same as having judgement." Gumball told him, and left it at that.

"Still, I could just be paranoid." the Candy Prince admitted.

"Yeah..."

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna burst up from the river, making sure she was well and truly soaked, after having rolled on the ground a few times.

She finished tearing off the burned sleeve at the shoulder, tearing off the other to make it equal.

Then she squinted, feeling the skin on her cheek stretch and sting.

She poked at it gently, and felt the strange smoothness that was no doubt shiny and pink.

She grimaced. Digging in the riverbed, she slapped a handful of cold mud on the burn, nearly moaning in relief.

She sat there in the water, sat there, and thought.

The burn would be tricky, and even without seeing it she could tell it would be...distinct...

No one could afford the trouble this might make. Not Igni, not GB for his politics, not Marshall, not Cake, not anyone.

Cake would tell Mo, who told GB everything, Cake would make sure of it, and Marshall would get ticked for sure and try to kill Igni, and...

She sniffed, wiping her nose.

Thinking, she quickly shifted her hair around under her cap, making those bangs that never stayed in fall on the _other_ side of her face.

She wiped off the mud and patted her hair carefully, pulling at the strands. That should hide it, until it healed up.

She nodded, standing up and brushing herself off.

She could tell Cake that Igni had to go because they argued, which was true, and that Fionna hung out around the river to cool down, which was also true, and tore off her sleeves because they were messed up, true, and just wanted to change her hair, which was, again, true.

There, no lies.

She breathed in, and breathed out, feeling the tightness in her throat go away for now.

There. All set.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The next day, it could be safely assumed that negotiations weren't going well.

Or at least, that was the consensus after the Candy Castle's East Wing started melting like fondue.

* * *

**Author's note: **_I know that this probably wasn't such a 'nice' chapter, but whoever tells you that 'love is drama-free' is a LYING LIAR!_

_Reviews are appreciated as always! Thank you for your patience and patronage!_


	31. Inferno

Marshall knew this was gonna be a bad day. Flame King had come in for another round of negotiations, but had this _smile_. Marshall Lee knew those smiles, not the smirking, cocky ones, not the false, smarmy ones, and not the blank, nervous, or absent ones either.  
This one was bland, controlled, and _ready_. That was the kind of smile that got a joke before you did, and didn't find it funny. That was the kind of smile that you didn't turn your back on. It seemed GB knew those smiles too. Marshall caught him muttering something to Peppermint Maid, who nodded and left.

"Why were you whispering?" Flame King asked idly, as they were closed up together in the Pastel Room.

"I'd left something on in the kitchen." Gumball replied, and Marshall _didn't dare laugh_. His Axe felt really good on his back right now. The Flame King sniffed, and Gumball took that as the cue to get his notes out. "I was hoping to get back to you on the matters of trade," the Prince began, "I'd like to ask you about the routes, namely—"

"You did something to her, didn't you?"

Gumball paused, blinking, looking up from his papers, ". . . I'm sorry?"

The Flame King had dropped his smile, leaning back in his chair (he said he could control himself, but they'd made him one of stone, just in case), and was staring at them both, "You must've done something to her," he continued, "She's changed, she's..._different_."

There was a few beats of quiet, as no one needed to know who _she _was.

"She's not involved in this discussion." Gumball clipped out, frowning.

"_I'm _not 'involved in this discussion'," the young King shot back, "We had agreed you'd stay _away_ from her. Both of you."

"I'd agreed that we would not _interfere_," Gumball pointed out, "To go to the point of _staying _away would have hurt our friendship and—"

"_You are not her friends!_" he spat, literally spitting fire, and Gumball jumped as sparks scattered and hissed over the table. "_I'm her friend_," he continued angrily, "**_I'm_** _her friend! _You two are just her self-appointed _guard dogs_!"

"Al_ri-hi-hi-ight_..." Marshall purred from the ceiling, "Wanna test the length of our chains, then, Sparky?"

"This is not part of the discussion." Gumball said firmly, sweating, "Stand down, Marshall."

"Woof." Marshall snarled, but didn't lower his Axe. But the flaming Royal wasn't appeased.

"I'm done with discussions," the Flame King sneered, his hands burning holes into the tabletop, his flames flaring from his back like a mane.

"I'm tired of _talking_. What does talking solve?"

"Your Highness, you're making a mistake," Gumball cautioned, "Just calm down, and think, carefully, about what your actions could—"

"NOTHING!" the Flame King roared, and his flames roared with him. The wall behind him hissed as the oil melted off it. "It solves nothing! No one listens, no one understands, they will not hear unless I _make them_ _hear!_"

"Pfft," Marshall scoffed, but felt the waves of heat rising up to the ceiling, "I can hear ya just fine, BBQ breath."

"Marshall _Lee_..." Gumball warned, but he, too, was already backing to the door, away from the sheer _heat_.

The Flame King's skin was turning darker, his flames turning redder as his breathing harshened.

"It's no use, Bubba. What's the matter, _Drama King?_" the vampire asked, ignoring the Prince, raising his Axe.

"Can't take the burn of getting _jilted?_"

The King froze, and all heat withdrew from the room, and the other two beings blinked.

Then it came back in a _wave._

"_I will make you __**all **__**BURN**_."

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Wonderful idea!" Gumball shouted, as Marshall flew-carried him rapidly down the hall away from the rolling tide of _magma_ the guy had coughed up, "Brilliant moment of reasoning! Superb! _Unglaublich!_ Marvelous! Sheer genius! _I freaking hate you __**so**__ much right now!_"

"Where's the _kitchen_, Gumba-a-all?!"

"Left here! Down the stairs, right turn at the second corridor, third door on the right!"

"Where _is_ everybody?!" Marshall said, as he dropped Gumball in the huge expansive cavern of a kitchen.

"I gave Monet the order to clear out all the staff, and at the first sign of smoke, to organize a full-scale evacuation of the Kingdom." Gumball said briskly, throwing on his lab coat and checking his forearm, where Marshall saw black scribbles on pink skin.

"I wasn't sure how destructive he felt, or feels, but I did not want to take chances."

"Well if you're so freaking prepared why're you so ticked at me?!"

"Foresight does not excuse _idiocy!_" Gumball snapped, and then they jumped as something exploded in the distance, making the room shake.

"Lovely, I think he's found the boiler room," the Prince muttered, and then snapped to attention, "This is a matter of war. I, under my own will, as the acting ruler of the Candy Kingdom, am requesting the allegiance of the King of the Vampire Clan and Heir of the Nightosphere."

"Cool. I, under my own will, offer allegiance." Marshall said, unhesitating, then grinned, "What do I get to do?"

"Distract him." Gumball said, turning to the oven, and turning it on fit to make the flames shoot like geysers, and took a few of some strange, milky-white rocks from his pockets, "Get him _away_ from the Kingdom, and any place inhabited. And make sure he poses as a clear target."

"And you?" Marshall asked.

Gumball tossed these rocks into a pan, and held it over the fire, eyes narrowed, "I'll be _cooking_."

Marshall chuckled, saluting, "Aye, aye, Cap-i-_tan_!"

Gumball nodded as he flew away, and glanced to make sure he was alone.

He took the rocks from the hot pan in his hand, testing them in his palm, and they were very, very cold.

"Perfect." he muttered, then checked his notes again, frowning.

Then he ate one.

He sat down, swallowing it whole, grimacing as it _scraped_ on the way down, giving him a cold burn to his _core_.

He breathed in, and breathed out slowly, shuddering, shaking, squeezing his eyes shut, _oh Glob this hurt_...

Then he grinned, relaxing, as his stomach settled, "Oh... Oh, yes... Hah! C-can't believe that worked..."

He tossed the other rocks idly in his palm like dice. Now he just had to wait, and hopefully the wait would be long enough.

He already felt the coldness fade, slightly, to spread evenly through his body, and _extend_, centering on his palm.

_Perfect. _

* * *

. . .

* * *

"You really run on a short fuse, don't ya?" Marshall laughed, not used to having to out_fly _somebody. He swerved down as a jet of flame passed overhead, feeling the heat. Woo, the dude really was mad, if he wasn't gonna shout anything back.  
Well, he was growling, sort of, but still. Marshall winced as he flew past windows, at the little splashes of sunlight that threatened to fry him, then it's like 'Oop! Kidding!', and snarled to himself.

Why couldn't they have had a freaking showdown at _night? _Nighttime was the best time for showdowns!  
Much more of a badawesomeness factor! And here he was, saving the day in a freaking _sunhat_. He growled, clapping said hat more firmly on his head, and threw himself out of a window.

He turned around in the shower of glass, as it seemed he was losing his audience, who was focusing on destroying the castle instead of him.

How rude!

"Yo, Hotpants!" he shouted, grinning, "I ever tell ya I got her to let her hair out?! Huh?! It's soft and _shiny-y-y!_" he sang.

"How would you've liked feeling _that_, huh?! Oh, right, you can't ever, 'cause _she **dumped** you!_"

A tidal wave of flame shattered through the windows. Success!

Marshall flew higher, flinching as a bad angle caught him some sunlight in the face, hissing.

"W-what's the matter?!" he snarled anyway, "Can't handle being a second-rate _King_?!"

The flames got higher with him, and he picked out the guy's face in the flames, glaring as if he wanted to kill him with his eyes.

Marshall made a face back at him, and blinked as something different happened, and flew higher, higher, _higher, oh crap!_

_Success sucks!  
_

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna stared at the huge column of smoke, oozing up into the sky and away with the wind. The air smelled faintly of burnt sugar.

Along the roads towards the Candy Kingdom, she saw people, guards, _everyone _setting up little places and snack bars and things, all of them from the Candy Kingdom, looking worried, and talking. She caught snatches of 'Prince', 'King', 'fire', and mostly 'war', and a sick feeling settled heavy in her gut.

"Ooh, I don't like the looks a' this, girl..." Cake mumbled from beside her, and then she blinked, "Oh my Glob, _Monochro!_ Mo?! Honey?! MONOCHRO?!" she shrieked, snaking through the crowd, fear frizzing up her fur and tail as she searched for her boyfriend. Fionna reached after her sister, but quickly lost her, blinking, as the tightness in her throat came back, choking her as she looked at the pillar of smoke. Oh Glob...

Then she swallowed down the tightness, setting her jaw, barely having to muscle her way through as the crowd parted.

She was reaching the checkpoint before the Kingdom when she found a familiar face.

"Pep!" she called out, running quickly to the Maid, who turned to look at her. "M-Monet?" she stammered, pointing wordlessly, towards where she could now see the Candy Castle, looking as small as a toy from here, belching flame from one of its ends.

"Negotiations _were_ short." the Peppermint Maid replied simply, a wistful smile on her face, "Don't worry, Miss. It'll be fine."

Fionna growled, and was going to march towards the Kingdom when two huge guards blocked her path. She blinked.

"Huh?"

"The Kingdom is under evacuation and lockdown," the Maid said from behind her, sounding regretful, and Fionna turned to face her, "No one may enter once left, and there will be no unauthorized entries. And I'm afraid this includes you, too, Miss Fionna. No exceptions."

"B-but I'm—" Fionna stammered, pointing to herself, then vaguely towards the castle, "But GB is—?"

"He is with Mr. Lee, and they are dealing with the problem." Monet said smoothly, and then they winced as there was the sound of a faint explosion. A new surge of smoke arose, and clouds began to roll in. ". . . His Highness anticipated this series of events," the Maid continued uneasily, "And he expected you. He gave me a message to pass on to you." She cleared her throat, and Fionna listened, dumbstruck, as the Maid apparently recited word for word:

"Fionna, if you hear this, first, this is _not your fault_. It is mine, for reasons I can't tell you right now. I will have Marshall's allegiance, and my arsenal at my disposal, so everything will be fine. I'm sorry to shut you out like this, but this truly is a political and _personal _matter that I can't let myself put you in danger for, especially given my prediction of the King's instability and you two's relationship. I'm not degrading you or your position, or your abilities, but I ask you to please respect me and mine.  
Please, stay safe, and stay away. I cannot afford a hero now. I'm sorry."

Peppermint Maid coughed, and then looked up at Fionna's expression. ". . . Please don't stab the messenger." she requested politely.

"If that stuffed-up sugar-filled scarecrow thinks he's gonna shut me out then he's got another thing—!" Fionna snarled, but again the guards blocked her, shoving at her with their crossed lances. She put a hand on her sword hilt in warning, until the Maid spoke up again, "Miss Fionna, please! I understand your motives, but I have my orders, and I will not disobey them! I can't let you pass." When Fionna glared, the Maid remained unfazed, "I will consider you a trespasser and have you arrested and jailed until the crisis is averted, if you dare attempt to pass this blockade," the servant warned, "Please, I do not like this any more than you, but I am nothing if not loyal. I trust his judgement."

Fionna's eyes narrowed, but her hand slowly released its grip on the hilt.

"_I get it_." she growled, and stomped away, away from the Kingdom, turning her back on that accusing pillar of smoke.

The crowd parted much more quickly this time, as her fury radiated from her like an aura, sharp and steely.

The choking in her throat closed off her words, making her teeth grit, and her eyes burn. But then as she moved the tightness slowly moved from her throat to her chest, and there she suddenly found a clarity that hours of mojo hadn't given her. She slowed, and stopped, blinking. Then she strode forward again, still away from the Kingdom, but in a different direction, the aura sharpened and honed to _purpose_.

It was simple. She was the hero, and she was the friend.

Heros were not stopped, and friends were not balked.

It seems a few certain someones had to _learn _that...

* * *

. . .

* * *

Cake sniffled slightly, clutching on, but careful not to pop her claws, ears flat and pupils blown.

Monochromicorn nuzzled her reassuringly as they were twined around each other in the crowd.

"M'sorry for freakin', baby..." she mumbled, "But _oh Glob I'm glad you're oka-a-ay...!_"

Monochro nodded, 'saying' nothing, until her fur fluffed down and she calmed down.

"Whew..." she exhaled finally, and then nuzzled him back, for comfort more than anything else.

Then she blinked, looking around, suddenly concerned again, ". . . Fionna?"

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Oh, crap!" Marshall swore, dodging another ball of flame.

Flame King rose up in front of him. And to his left. And behind him. And from below.

"Nothing smart left to say?" the Flame Kings asked, circling. They weren't chasing him now, now Marshall was being _played with_.

Marshall understandably didn't like this one teeny bit.

"Gimme a second, Lame King!" he chuckled, and then shrieked as a spout of flame caught him in the back, "_Graaaah!_"

"Can't handle a little _heat?_" they asked, _he _asked, laughing, "Poor little bogeyman, a King only in the cowardly underbelly of the night! I can burn any time, _Your Majesty_, and guess what? _So can you_."

Then Marshall _screamed_, but this one was unusual, twisting his face, stretching his jaw, and he took out his guitar.

Lightning cracked as he played a note, and this one was also unusual, as it carried _weight_, making the flames gutter for a moment, and the Flame King in all his forms flinched, and Marshall grinned a grin bigger than his face, as the earth around the castle began to shift and writhe.

"Then _burn__, baby, burn..._" he purred, laughing with his demon eyes in full force as the castle began to swarm with waves of the dead.

_"Who knows all the dead that's dancing under their homes?_

_Who can really count out all those li'l funny bones?_

_How high can you count, oh, how low can you go,_

_Until the dancing dead have nothing much else to show?_

_Do you know?_

_(It's gonna be a lot, bro.)_

_Ah-ha-ha-a-ah!"_

Flame King glared, and then gaped when as the dead caught on fire as they climbed the castle, they took some of it away, making him lose his control of it. And they were piling on themselves, slowly getting higher, like a mountain. He started focusing on the army instead, blasting away, but more kept coming.

_"Oh, how much you wanna bet, li'l boy, against the bogeyman?_

_You say only in the darkness could I do what I can!_

_Well, this is true, I guess, but let me tell ya, man,_

_Nighttime's my groupie, yeah, but the shade is my fan!_

_(Nudge, nudge, hint, hint?)"_

Marshall Lee chuckled as the skeletons rose like freakish ants, feeling right at home in all the moving clicking bones that shielded him from the mean ol' sun. Still, he was hoping Gumball would hurry it up. It was getting a little toasty in here.

_"Woah, now if this little lesson isn't getting to your head,_

_Why don't you relax, look around, maybe look down instead?_

_It's hard to burn a bone, man, 'cause a bone's already dead,_

_But show me what you got, guy, and let's see all your __**red**!"_

Flame King got snared in the crowd of the dead, kicking and burning and growling, but that just let him get beat up and clawed at by things that were on fire, and Marshall chuckled, as the dead around him formed into something else. Armor. He was now a giant made of dead stuff, safe and snug inside away from the sun. Freaking cool.

_"Who knows all the dead that's dancing under the ground,_

_Well it's a mystery to me, but look at all I found!_

_Give me your best shot, man, and I'll give you a round,_

_Unless you can't take my sound?_

_Eh-heh,_

_Then I'll show you all that's under the __ground!_

_(Get it?_

_That means I'm gonna bury ya._

_Round ONE!)_"

In his giant armor of dead stuff, he crushed the Flame King in a giant, bone and rotting meat fist. Then blinked as said fist blackened and crumbled to useless charcoal. Then he grinned. Boss fight! Really, though, he thought, whatever you're doing, Bubba, do it freaking quickly.

It's a hotbox in this thing!

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna stared at the wide, dark, dark double doors that led into the depths of Ice Mountain.

She was stuffed up, she was scraped up, and she was cold, and honestly wasn't sure what to do at this point.

She didn't think heros normally dealt with this kind of stuff.

So what does she say? 'Hi, remember when I had someone drop your ceiling on you after dealing with your crazy? Can you do me a favor?'

Normally she'd just charge in with a battle cry and a drawn sword, but that didn't really feel right for this. She sighed. When in doubt, go with the obvious. She knocked, waited, and the door opened, a penguin minion blinking up at her, then quacking, gesturing her in.

She looked down at it.

Was it wearing a _bow tie?_

It quacked at her again, sounding politely impatient. She swallowed, going in.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball waited, feeling heavy things shake above that didn't feel like explosions, but like footsteps.

His breathing was shallow and his stomach was _roiling_, but he kept rolling the stones in his palm.

And then he felt the heat, and felt it moving away from the castle and his Kingdom. _Finally_.

His eyes opened, and he summoned another pie in the sky, surfing it through the dubious remains of the East Wing, before bursting into the open sky, squinting around, and then blinked. . . Alright, a giant skeleton demon monster swatting at a pillar of flame was a pretty clear target.

He concentrated, and then cast the rocks, and they scattered in all directions, and he grinned, still feeling them place themselves around the battle. Now came the tricky part. He took out a potion, checked the label, then downed it, grimacing, steeling himself. It was sweet, and tasted good, felt nice, but as soon as it hit his stomach and its contents... He doubled over, choking, coughing, and felt the thing inside him _pulse_. In response, the airborne particles _grew_ into irregular spheres the size of his head, pulsing in time with their counterpart he carried, and he straightened. And then he felt the control stabilize.

He flexed a hand in experiment, and watched the spheres swirl around the fighters in answer.

He nodded, and activated them.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall gritted his teeth as his armor fell apart. Burned dead stuff did _not _smell good. "Aw, crap," he muttered, yanking his hat on as the stupid sunshine flooded in, exposing him. "I'm out." he hissed, invisibly zooming away from the wreck, and found a familiar sight. He blinked.

Yay, his hero rides forth on a flying pie thing.

Crap, these burns hurt!

"'Bout freaking time, son! Whatcha doin'?" he asked the prince, grinning as they watched Flame King beat up the remains of his armor.

"I wonder if he thinks he's killed me?"

"I don't think he's _thinking _much at the moment," Gumball muttered crossly, waving his hands around. Marshall squinted, and saw funny floating white things zooming around the burning brat. "What's that?" he asked, absently swatting out an ember on his sleeve.

"My precaution." Gumball replied, and then blinked as he realize the King was glaring at them. All of the King.

"Oh, dear."

* * *

. . .

* * *

The penguin quacked for Fionna to sit down, and she did, rigid, looking around. This had to be a trap somehow. Nothing that looked this _nice _wasn't a trap. There was no big, empty, expansive chamber. Or, well, it was, but it wasn't so empty any more. Where the throne had been on a plinth, there was still a throne, but on a smaller daïs, and not as chintzy. Giant pillars of ice were carved here and there, kind of natural, kind of not. There was a small lounge area gouged into the ice nearby, which Fionna sat at, and it had plenty of dark furs, black and grey, and squishy blue, silver, and black pillows and so many soft things that someone almost forgot they were sitting on ice. And...Glob was that a _bar _over there?! Yup, a little bartender penguin waved at her. She waved back uneasily.

For a moment she wondered if she was at the right Ice Mountain, but didn't have to wonder long.

"Well, look who finally decided to drop by!" she heard the cackle, except it was more of a chuckle, and it wasn't from above.

She whirled around, sword drawn out of habit, and stopped, all hero-ing scripts abruptly thrown out the window with a ball-and-chain on the ankle and a grave already dug to break its fall. The villainess. Was dressed. In a toga.

The Ice Queen waved as Fionna's jaw dropped, grinning, "Too much?"

The Ice Queen blinked, as she got no response. She'd been told her new style was jaw-dropping, but the tailor said nothing about the opposition going comatose. She peered curiously, waving a hand in front of the shorty's blank, gaping face. "Yoohoo? Piggy?"

"Need a fav'r..." the girl mumbled.

She backed off, and gently made Fionna sit back in her seat, and took another couch herself. "Well," she said, grinning, "I might be feeling generous at the moment. Let me guess, _boy troubles?_" she raised an eyebrow.  
That finally jolted her, "What?! No! I mean—yes, but not—it's big troubles!"

The Ice Queen laughed, "Don't worry, don't worry, I got it all down! With audio too, this time!" She rubbed her hands together, stretching out, "Ooh, I pity someone who can't watch a good dogfight!"

"Dress?" Fionna asked, pointing, distracted again.

The Sorceress smirked, "Eh, that old thing was just that: old! You'd be surprised how comfortable this is."

"Ah, not the point!" the hero protested, shaking her head, "Candy Castle is burning!"

"Yeah," the Ice Queen chuckled, "Isn't that _neat?! _Here, look, look, look!"

Fionna blinked, as the witch waved a hand, and a big, oval-sphere thing appeared, and she could see Flame King. Well, what looked like Flame King. "Aw," the Queen pouted, "There was a big dead army giant a few minutes ago. Well, that's what ya get for not arriving on time."

"I..." Fionna gaped, seeing him chase Gumball, trying to burn him. Marshall was hacking apart what looked like copies, and while he looked like he was having fun, he was looking tired, and not a little singed. What looked like giant snowballs or something were swirling around the Flame King, "I don't understand. It's not supposed to go like that," she mumbled, "He's a _King_, he's not supposed to—! I can't really—!"

"Looks like you got burned a li'l here, too." she heard the Ice Queen say, and suddenly felt her hair being moved.

She jerked back, squeaking, "What the hack, lady?!"

Ice Queen sneered, "Oh, please," she pointed to her cheek, "You really think you can keep hiding that?"

Fionna frowned, tugging her hair to hide the mark. It didn't hurt so much now, but it hadn't quite healed.

The Sorceress scoffed, grabbing her wrist and holding up her hand, "You're so pathetic," she laughed, "Hold still."

Then she pressed her clawed hand to Fionna's face, who gritted her teeth as the skin hissed and _stung_. But it was strangely cool, not cold, and the stinging slowly lessened until the skin there was just numb. She blinked as the Queen backed off, touching her face to check.  
No smooth-skin.

Ice Queen smirked, crossing her arms, "Now you owe _me _a favor, hmm?" she cackled.

Fionna growled, shaking herself out of it, "No, I came here to ask _you_ for one!" she protested, "What is with you?!"

"Change of heart?" the Queen decided, slumping back on the couch to watch the screen-thing, "Change of pace? New point of view? Heck if I know, but I think it's working for me, whatever it is." She glanced at Fionna, grinning, "C'mon, have a seat, grab a drink, take a load off! Let the boys do all the work for once, I think you earned it, hmm?"

When Fionna crossed her arms, the Queen rolled her eyes, "Fine, puppy-eyes. What's in it for me if I help ya?"

"I'm not gonna let you marry Gum—" Fionna pointed out, but the Ice Queen waved a hand, "Pssh! Old news, babe! I'm not interested in Sweet Stuff anymore, on my honor. But I'm interested in having two favors from _you_. Tell ya what," Ice Queen grinned, "Let's make it a U.O Me. We'll discuss the deets later. Deal?"

"Alright, yes, please, just help." Fionna grumbled.

Ice Queen laughed, standing up and stretching, "Woohoo! Girl Power!"

Fionna made a facepalm, growling to herself. This was such a bad idea...


	32. Welcome to the Ice Age

"King!" Gumball shouted, the speed of his flight putting out the sparks that singed the edge of his lab coat, "I'm warning you again, this will cause—_fudge!_—this will cause bigger problems than any of us can afford! You're not aware of what your actions will bring about!"

**"Oh?"**

A living being of molten rock and fire surged in front of the Prince, practically one with the inferno he created, bursts of flame flicking from the scars and shatters in his encrusting armor, and it crackled around his face as he smiled, **"I know that I'll be burning you alive."**

Gumball swallowed, "This violence really isn't necessary-y-y!" he yelled, racing desperately to avoid the fiery waves that splashed throughout the plain, turning the area into something reminiscent of the younger man's Kingdom. **"And after ****_you _****burn,"** the King continued, **"I, as my own army, will bring this pathetic place down into ashes. Then we'll see who says what is necessary, you twisted, selfish _weakling PRINCE!_"**

Gumball's face set, and he hovered higher than the flames, feeling the heat through the pie as it threatened to melt from under him.

NOTE: Reinforce the aluminum tin, and increase pastry density. NOTE: Next time, prepare another batch of sponge cakes, without changing the absorbance-mass ratio. NOTE: Learn that pens are sometimes not mightier than swords because it's bloody hard to write a polite letter of complaint when someone's swinging a bloody sword at you! NOTE: He has officially declared war. No other alternatives except for acceptance can be taken at this point.

"Marshall! Flank me and we can hold him!" he shouted.

"I'm a little _busy here, _GB!" Marshall hollered, surrounded by the remnants of his undead army, at this point just trying to avoid getting fried.

This wasn't good.

He needed to keep the Flame King still for the precaution sequence to set up properly, without getting burned in the process. Indeed, the crystals were still hounding their target, but Gumball could feel the control in his stomach dissolving. If Marshall's distraction wasn't working, this was going to be tricky. "Fudge this." he muttered. He grit his teeth, rounding to face the wave, and quickly popped a mint into his mouth, crushing it in his teeth.

He whistled sharply, and the resulting chill crudely wiped out the firewall and the surrounding flames, and brought him face to face with the King. He breathed in desperately, feeling the air crystallize between his teeth and in his lungs, frantically shuffling through his pockets.  
The King scowled, **"Run out of tricks, yet, lap-dog?" **Gumball said nothing, and lobbed a few, small round red objects at the Flame King, who laughs when he sees that they were spitting sparks. **"Fire can't hurt me, idiot!"**

Gumball had the capacity to grin, "How about an explosion?"

The Flame King had time to blink in confusion before the cherry bombs blew up in his face.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall Lee flew up as the flames quickly died down, coughing as he reached Gumball.

"Y-you got him?"

"Stunned him," he replied briefly, moving his hands, fingers, and arms like some sort of bizarre puppet-master, "Minor concussive force. It should be just long enough to hold him still and isolate his source-self, instead of bagging another one of those wretched copies. You okay?"

"Yeah, just a little black lung. _Ech_... I'll be good once I hack up my bronchial tubes... Your breath smells nice by the way. Heh. Minty.  
Alright, I give, what the stuff are you doing there?"

"Containing him." Gumball growled, and one of the spheres that circled the King burrowed into the ground under him, while he knelt there, stunned, his molten exoskeleton heavily fractured and falling off in places. A spiral of milky crystal fanned up around him like perfect stalagmites, and the other spheres arranged themselves at what looked like specific points around and above him, before strings of energy arced between them, making them more translucent. It was a cylindrical web of energy, opening up like a flower towards the sky.  
"And...aiming him."

"Ah, I see... Okay, no, I lied, I don't see. What is that stuff?"

"Rock candy," he replied shakily, practically babbling to distract from the pain in his guts, "A 'living' rock that grows in the caverns under my Kingdom. It can perform several different functions if transmuted correctly. I've found the chemical reaction that makes them change, for instance, and with a bit of magic can control that reaction and harness its various properties, but it's...well, an unconventional method of control, and I know I'm going to loathe the side-effects."

"Math. But _how_ are a bunch of sugary rocks gonna contain this guy?"

"They are purified, specialized, and faceted in a way that will direct the energies of heat. Think of them like focussing crystals for a laser. This way, he will not burn _down_. Instead, his heat will just be transferred up and into the sky, and dissipate harmlessly into the ozone layer, minimizing his impact. It is forcing him to _transfer_ his heat, instead of focusing it."

Gumball glanced up, "I feel bad for any birds flying overhead, however."

"Ha, yeah."

They watched him as he got a hold of himself, glaring at the things surrounding him. When he tried to get out, the energies zapped him back, and when he tried to blast them, they'd glow and throb in response, merely pulsing the heat up and out. He was getting angrier, and his bursts more uncontrolled, and even when he rested, he was glowing, like his flames were being sucked away.

"So," Marshall ventured, "This thing is kind of like a giant vacuum, right?"

"Y-yes," Gumball smiled at him proudly, "Astute observation. That's the containment part: his flames, not spreading out naturally, will consume more oxygen, and gradually incapacitate him enough to suit our purposes. This is supposing he calms down, of course." The Prince grimaced as his stomach clenched, "Though I do sort of have a time limit for this, and he doesn't look like he'll calm down, so I might have to speed the process up."

He made a twisting motion with his hand, and the crystals flared, seeming to intensify.

"Er," the vampire squinted as he saw the brat really was looking out of breath, his flames fluttering, though apparently in his rage he was clueless to his condition, "I'm not gonna pretend to be an expert on any of this crud, but won't that, I don't know, kill him?"

". . . That is a possibility, yes."

The half-demon's grin was a bit wry, "That sounds a li'l dark for you, Bubba."

He glanced over at the Prince, who, even when he was pale, shaking, and sweaty, looked determined.

"I will do what is necessary before I see my Kingdom burn." he stated simply.

Marshall Lee chuckled, but didn't sound amused. So this is why he'd ordered Fionna to be kept out. "That's gonna break her heart, y'know... I don't think this is something you can Plan around," he warned, absently supporting the Prince when he stumbled from another dry heave. "Bubba?"

Gumball was gritting his teeth, not saying anything, holding his stomach.

Marshall Lee glanced at him, then at the Flame King, then set him down gently to continue his controls, and went to fly around the perimeter of the sugar rock crystal cage thing, raising a brow. The air around this thing was _cold_, cold and dry, and smelled like sweetness and lightning...

"Giving up yet?!" he called in, and saw a wave of heat splash up against the energies before it was sucked away.

"Go to the Netherworld, you freak!" was the answering scream.

Marshall Lee chuckled, "Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, and the mug, and burned the freaking souvenir shop down.

Ya wanna try that?

Will burnin' a widdle souvenir shop down make Mr. McGrumpy-pants feel better?"

He waited a few beats as the Flame King tried to flambe him, throwing himself against his confines.

"You're a gutsy li'l brat, I'll give ya that," Marshall told him idly, leaning on his Axe while wiping some ash off his knuckles, "But you're gonna burn yourself out if you keep this up. Seriously. Ask yourself, is all this junk _really_ worth a put-down?"

"You don't deserve her!" the Flame King shouted back, panting as he slumped, "N-neither of you deserve her, you selfish freaks! And I'll _burn_ you before you...b-before you..._sh-heh..._" "Sorry, what was that?" Marshall asked, holding a hand up to his ear, "I can't hear you over your _asphyxiation_! . . . Tell ya what, man, if you wanna surrender and call it cool for now and just-just talk it over or somethin', raise your hand."

Marshall stared, then laughed, "Finger. Okay, I walked into that one. Right, gotcha. Glad we had this li'l chat!"

He flew back to Gumball, shaking his head, "He's not gonna back down, GB. There, I tried playing nice, din't work. See, now this is why I never like hanging with Flame people, have some sort of vengeance streak to 'em."

"_Urgh_..."

Then he looked up, and saw something that looked like flames approaching. Unfortunately these flames wouldn't be easily put out.

"Oh, crap..." he muttered, moving to shield Gumball, "That's _ri-ight_, Hotshot's got groupies..."

He grimaced, his normally absent moral compass coming into play as he saw even the li'l fire lion cubs furiously tumbling along with the adults in the campaign to maul their faces off, which would be freaking adorable, except that they were coming to maul their faces off.

The vampire felt conflicted. The lions? Not so much.

_Craaap_...

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Is this really necessary, lady?! We're on the same freaking side!"

"Shut up and play along, half-pint, I've got an image to maintain! You'll thank me later!"

"I can't feel my feet! Or my hands! I need those!"

"Quit your whining or I'll make it look like you're working for me, how would you like that?!"

"Why you—!"

"Geez, if I knew you were gonna complain this much I would've just crashed the party by myself! Sweet Stuff was a much quieter kidnapping buddy than you, barely got a peep out of him except for some yelling, maybe. He was cuter too..."

"But I thought we were working togeth—!"

"Image! Imaaage! We both got our reps to live up to, piggy, now quiet down or I'm dropping you off right now!"

Fionna glanced down to the distant ground, and shut up.

"_Thank _you. Remember, I'm the one who's saving your bacon, here."

". . . Can you at least unfreeze my feet?"

"Nope, I'm gonna have my fun. Plus I wanna make sure you don't chicken on our deal before we get there.  
But don't worry, I'll let you save some face once we pass the 'yellow tape'."

"But—"

"If you don't _shut **up **_one of my favors will be an uninterrupted date with the Prince."

". . . You mean that wasn't gonna be one?"

Ice Queen grinned, "You mean you were prepared to arrange that?"

Fionna shut up again, but the Sorceress cackled, "Hee-hee, manipulative! I like that! But naw, I have better things in mind."

The heroine swallowed, not wanting to know.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball was afraid he was going to die, or at times, was afraid that he _wasn't_. Either way, the situation was deteriorating quite rapidly. The control crystal in his stomach was threatening to destabilize, which affected his control on the Precaution, which prolonged the Flame King's suffering and condition in either respect. Either the younger man would keep just enough energy to expend it again in another vicious outburst, or would succumb to an uncertain death, which was worse than certain death. Gumball was many things, but he was not a torturer. Fionna wouldn't forgive him. But if he let the man go _now_... Couldn't let that happen...

"Bad kitty! _Bad kitty! Fire bad, fire very, very bad! CRAP DANGIT, NOT THE HAT!_"

Oh, yes, and Marshall was holding off a fire lion pride singlehandedly, and in his own way, non-violently. Gumball would later reflect on and appreciate this softer side of his comrade, but at the moment he was trying not to puke his guts out. Or faint.

Marshall Lee, grimacing, flung another big cat aside with the flat of the Axe, kicking at the smaller ones and getting his legs burned, snarling and hissing as they tried to get around him to GB, who really wasn't looking too good, and then he saw this huge cat that looked ready to pounce. He growled. "MINE." Then he took up his Axe, and tuned it quickly, and then he _played_. It was a riff on the E chord, laying heavy on the 1st E. And with Nightosphere metal and centuries of tuning and maintenance? The pitch was like eardrum _Hell_.

The entire pack, pride, whatever, yowled and writhed on the ground as Marshall played, forehead sweating from the heat and his own eardrums threatening to bleed as the Axe whined in his hands like a freaking banshee. And he grinned, laughing, "Cat Scratch Fever, kitties!" he howled, and they ran, mewling like the little flame-y furballs they were. Then he looked down at his Axe as he stopped playing, grimacing at the state of the strings.

"Crud."

Then he saw them again in the distance, pawing at their ears and shaking their heads, and they looked ticked, and ready for Round Two.

"Crud."

Then he whirled around as he heard Gumball throw up.

"Crud!"

Then the Precaution thing shattered into little bitty bits of shrapnel, and the King was crawling out, gasping.

"Aw, ya gotta be freaking _kidding_ me!" the vampire swore.

Then he felt shadows roll over the sun, and felt visible relief, but also a chill. He looked up as cloud banks were rolling in with the wind, smelling like ice and the coppery bite of winter. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the sky.  
"Yup. We're screwed." he grumbled, seeing the notorious blue blob.

Behind another smaller blue blob?

Ice Queen chuckled as she came nearer, winking, "Nice tunes, Sweet Fang! I miss the party?"

Her hands were on Fionna's shoulders, whose arms were crossed as she stared down at them, a little frown on her forehead.

Okay, apparently Fionna was now in cahoots with the Queen.

Was the Queen wearing a freaking _toga?!_

Marshall Lee was so lost at this point.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Keep the boys company, piggy!" the Ice Queen chuckled, letting Fionna hop down from the cloud, "They should never do a _lady's_ job!"

Fionna nodded, "Remember..." she warned.

"Yep, yep, keeping the kitten gloves on!" the woman cackled, flying down , then cast an icy cage over the fire pride as they tried to attack, grinning as they mewed in complaint, circling just shy of touching the bars, "I remember you, ya little upstarts. Ah-ha-ah-ha..." she cracked her knuckles as the Flame King stumbled to his feet, panting. She leered, "Remember _me_, Hot Stuff?"

The Flame King looked at her, shuddered, then launched forward with a roar, skin blackened and flames red and raring.

She laughed at him, as a wall of ice slammed up to meet him. A shell of ice armor covered her, and she chuckled as the wall melted in a hiss of boiling water and steam, revealing a face twisted with fury. "How sweet! He _does _remember!"

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Fionna..." Marshall panicked, the sun covered enough that he could lose the hat, "Fionna, you're really not supposed to be here."

"Shut up." she growled, and he blinked as she stomped over to Gumball, hoisting him up onto her back, "There's enough cloud that you can change, right? Get us to higher ground." When he stared she glared at him, "I said _move it!_ You want me out of here, right?!"

He changed, scooping them both up and flying to a higher ridge, feeling the air begin to heat and freeze, and the wind was stirring up something wicked, "You were supposed to stay _away_, dangit!" he finally had the brain cells to shout, spreading his wings as he felt hail bounce off his hide, shielding them. She sneered up at him, "When do _you _care what I'm supposed to do or not?!" she retorted, setting GB against the cliff, and he was coming to.

"What the hack were you guys _doing_?!" she exclaimed, and then coughed as a wave of steam roiled up from below, choking them all for a moment. "D-dealing with the problem," Gumball managed, sitting up and glaring, "I had ordered you to stay _away_, Fionna..." he growled.

"That was a stupid order. And I just freaking saved your stupid butts!" she told him.

That made the Prince laugh.

"Ahh, yes, your Code brought you to side with a villain and defy me, forgive me for my lack of proper gratitude, my hero!"

"Fio, we really mean it, you aren't supposed to be here!" Marshall rumbled, "Your hero thing is cool, really, but now it's just not—"

He choked as she head-butted him in the gut, even through his hide and fur, and she stood back, glaring at them both.

"It wasn't about the stupid Code, you idiots!" she shouted, as the wind was shrieking with temperature change, "It wasn't about being a stupid hero or-or following orders or Princes or Kings any of that crap! I came here for _you guys, Glob dangit!"_

* * *

. . .

* * *

"So here's what I'm thinkin'..." the Ice Queen mused, skating around the young King as he blew flame.

"You set your hopes up, right? Got it _aaall_ figured out. There's a little playwright inside your head, one that writes some pretty little happy ending: you say this, she says that, you both get twitterpated, main character gets the girl, can't possibly fail, ri~ight?"

Sliver-fine needles of ice chunk into his exposed side, and he howls even as they melt, and she chuckles. Wuss.

"But she didn't follow the script did she, the li'l hussy?"

"SHUT UP!" he screamed.

"And there were some shameless little supporting characters that screwed up the whole act, huh?"

"I SAID BE QUIET, HAG!"

She squinted as the steam rolled in, a few embers bouncing harmlessly off of the shield she put up. She leered from around the barrier, "And she done broke your heart, which was certainly not part of the script, and _you just couldn't have that_..."

It was with a wordless roar that he came at her, arms spread and flames flaring like wings, and she smirked.

"Oh, please, you think you got it bad, kiddo?" she sneered, ice coalescing as she rose, and swatted him aside with one swipe of an icy paw. "You know nothing of broken! Yet!" she chuckled, and the giant yeti of ice raised both fists and slammed him into the cold, burned earth.

The ground crackled into a crater, as he tried to hold himself from the blows with a quickly formed shield of obsidian.

But she was really getting into it now, cackling as she slammed him down _again _and _again _and _again...!_

BOOM.

BOOM.

**BOOM!**

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball coughed again, wiping off his mouth, and rummaged through his pockets, checking the label and drinking the vial, sighing as the remedy took effect. "This isn't over," he reminded her, and she nodded firmly, glaring into the distance as they waited for the shaking to stop. "But...thank you..." he mumbled, and both males watched as her expression softened slightly, before hardening again into something less harsh.

"He-ey!" the Ice Queen whistled, flying up with a Flame King ice cube in tow. "Want 'im for here or to go?" she chuckled.

All three of them looked up at her wearily, and she blinked, looking at them.

She scowled, "You're welcome?"

"Thanks." Fionna sighed, getting up and brushing off her knees, before looking at the ice cube with a strange expression on her face.

"So," Ice Queen licked her thumb, dropping the cube, wrong side up, next to the giant bat that was Marshall as she examined an icy tablet, "That's two favors from you, piggy. And that makes one from my Sweetie, and another from tall, dark, and hairy."

She grinned as they stared at her, "You really know how to show a girl a good time, kid!" she winked at Fionna.

Fionna shuddered, and Marshall's red eyes narrowed as he stared at the human, "_Favors_?" he hissed.

"Why from them?!" Fionna spoke up, scowling. Ice Queen smirked, "I gave you to them, didn't I?"

She cackled, flying up again, "I'll call _you_!"

There were a few beats of silence as Fionna refused to look at them, a hard blush on her face.

"_Favors_..." Gumball repeated idly, supporting himself on the wall.

"I'm sorry that she's expecting them from you," Fionna mumbled, "But I'm not sorry for me."

"Whatever," the vampire growled, shouldering the Flame King cube, "We'll all talk later."

Then he blinked, as Fionna's face, while blushing, looked strange, "Fio, did she do that to you?" he growled, pointing to where, along her cheek, a faint, lighter outline of a hand could be seen. Fionna froze, quickly slapping her own hand against her cheek, "No, she didn't!" she squeaked quickly, then picked Gumball up and shoved him towards Marshall, "I'll meet you at the palace, okay, we'll all talk later, right? Bye!  
Omiglob, _Cake!_"

She quickly scrambled away, and Gumball looked up at the bat.

". . . I could accidentally drop him." Marshall suggested, and Gumball shook his head, "That's too good for him." the Prince said simply, "Besides, he has obligations he needs to attend to." They both looked around as the fire pride ambled up the slope, much more subdued.

The lions sat around them, looking up expectantly, hopefully. A fire lion cub, in its boredom, began nomming on its own tail.

Both males sighed.

"What a mess..." Gumball said tiredly.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Cake held on tightly to Fionna, who stroked her sister's head apologetically, and shared a wince with Monochromicorn.

Peppermint Maid hadn't said anything when she'd passed the blockade from the wrong side, but was glaring daggers at the heroine.

Fionna swallowed, as people slowly began to migrate back to Candy Kingdom.

This was gonna be a very messy few days...

* * *

. . .

* * *

**Author's note: **_Over 100 reviews! Milestone! And this story isn't anywhere close to being done yet, dear readers.  
Thank you very much for your continued support, and your reviews are always welcome and appreciated._

_Keep calm and carry coffee!_

_Sincerely, the hatchling_


	33. Cold War

The throne room was full, busy and bustling. Half-melted as it was, it was already being repaired, and made a good base for operations. Prince Gumball sat near the foot of the steps leading up to the throne, a table set up in front of him, an entire Kingdom set down on ink and paper before him.

Personally, his lab coat felt more like a blanket at this point, but he blinked tiredly and gulped down another mug of tea, more for the caffeine than for the taste, a necessity which he mourned quietly in the back of his hindbrain, and sighed. No casualties, the only real injuries being from various stampedes as his citizens, constantly sugared that they were, were prone to panic. There was also some effects from smoke inhalation, but nothing serious. Dr. Ice Cream took this in stride, ordering his nurses and teams around like a general, after taking time to briefly patch up Gumball and Fionna, who had suddenly disappeared after the operations base had been set up. Gumball took a moment to be worried, but no, it'd be taken care of later. Later.

"Damages?" he asked, and the Peppermint Maid obediently read off the list, which spilled down to her feet and down the remaining steps. Gumball groaned to himself, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes.

Given that the Candy Kingdom naturally had very rigid fire restrictions, due to caramelization and other factors, no one had ever really proposed an official fire brigade, seeing no need to do so, especially given that any of the members would probably melt before they could put one out, which Gumball now thought was a very, very stupid excuse and was wondering over and over again how that kind of logic had seemed acceptable before. Therefore the fire, unattended and unchecked, had spread naturally to some of the rest of the Kingdom before the Ice Queen had cooled everything in her wake, burning down a few business and residential sectors, not including the amount of damage sustained by the Palace itself, which put a lot of its staffing citizens out of work. Repairs to the water systems, repairs to buildings, resupplying, reimbursements, trade setup, finance assessment, materials, people...

Gumball would faceplant his desk with this migraine he had, except he had a technical audience, and leaders did not do faceplants, so he faceplanted his desk in spirit, wishing his body didn't feel so freaking heavy at the moment. And as if he didn't have enough to worry about...

"Continue as you deem fit, Monet. Priorities and complaints are listed here," he handed her the script, "Send out messengers to our neighboring Kingdoms to explain our plight, and see if we can gain some sympathy resources, or at least permissions for temporary encampment on their land. Alert me if anything unusual happens." Which no doubt something would.

"Yes, Your Highness." she said obediently, taking the list and going to the work crews.

He pocketed his glasses, moving towards the back rooms and down the stairs, automatically being flanked by a couple of guards as the air got darker and cooler, the bright, gaudy surroundings turning towards the more conservative as they went to the dungeons, which were quite clean, decently lit, and well-designed to delegate to other functions should the need arise. The Candy Kingdom hardly had use for prisons, and when it did, the prisons were never used for long. Of the many things his parents had left him, whether for good or ill, Gumball was thankful for an efficient justice system.

"How is he?" he asked the guard who stood in front of one of the cells.

"Quiet, Your Highness. And gen'rly unresponsive," the person told him, "Eats fine, but moody as anythin'."

Gumball nodded, "His health?"

"Won't let the Doc near him t' check, but hasn't complained."

"Hm," Gumball tilted his head, "I'll knock two times when I'm done, but give me a twenty minute maximum before you check inside."

"Yes, Your Highness."

He went inside, hearing the door lock behind him, and took a moment to breathe as the washing of warm steam overwhelmed him for a moment, but was quietly proud of his work. This had been a tricky thing to set up, requiring quick repairs and redirection of the destroyed water system.

The Flame King was unbound, but sat cross-legged on a simple, raised, dry slab of rock near the far wall, while the walls and even the ceiling and floor were moistened and dripping, gentle waterfalls pouring from crude vents in the walls to drain through limited fissures in the floor. A good few inches of water pooled through the flagstones of the floor, soaking the Prince's shoes. Sweat and humidity made his coat stick to his form and his hair dampen and slightly limit his vision. The King looked at him blankly through the steam, sullenly, his flames dimmed and fluttering, hissing and spitting feebly against his skin from where the moisture made contact, rising as steam off his person.

There were a few beats of silence as they stared at each other, before Gumball cleared his throat, "I'm sorry this is not a lantern, but it was hard to come up with something on such short—"

"Why haven't you executed me?" the Flame King growled, "It is in your right. Or does it please you to see me this _humiliated?"_

Gumball blinked, surprised, and leaned against the wall, ". . . Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some slightly vindictive interests concerning this," he admitted, rubbing his forehead, and grimacing as his skin almost stuck together, "But mostly? I'm just tired, and our respective politics greatly differ. Being of a Candy origin, our judicial processes can be naturally lenient at times. So, no, I will not be executing you. Are you in pain?"

The King turned his head aside, bearing the remnants of his pride.

". . . Are you aware of your situation, King?" Gumball asked.

When he was met with angry silence and feigned ignorance he crossed his arms.

"You came here as an ambassador," the older Royal pointed out, "With the intent to establish relationships between our Kingdoms. _Beneficial_ relationships. But your first mistake was leaving your Kingdom without a stable governing infrastructure in case of your absence. I'd made contact, and I've learned your mother was already attempting to gather power like you had, and it was hard to get a hold of your supporters." That made the King sneer slightly, and Gumball continued, "Your second mistake was quickly forgetting your priorities, focussing on your personal concerns instead of those demanded of you by your position."

"_You_ wouldn't underst—" the Flame King began to growl, but was quickly overridden.

"And your third and _most stupid _mistake was declaring war on me and mine over a misplaced agenda, under the said priorities that concerned _nothing_ of the matter at hand, which was diplomacy!" Gumball snapped, "Are you aware of what you've done, Your Majesty, are you aware of the trouble you've caused us all?!"

Flame King flinched as Gumball kicked at the water in his anger, lab coat whirling like a cape as the Candy Prince paced, "No! In fact, no! This situation _doesn't _bring me any pleasure _in the slightest!" _Flame King watched with fascinated shock as the Prince ranted, "Are you aware of how many strings needed pulling to play down this big of a political fiasco?! And that doesn't include the repairs required, are you aware of how much lumber resources cost?! Of course you don't, because you burn the bloody stuff anyway out of sheer ignorance!" The Prince was waving his arms about, nearly tearing at his hair, "People are complaining, confused, and sometimes just can't think for themselves—_good grief, I nearly became a legal murderer_—the neighboring Royalty are all talking about things I'd rather were not discussed, establishing a reasonable contact with the Flame Kingdom to sort all this out is dicey at best, and this is just all the mess my _political_ life is going through, and this is all because you had to throw a spurned brat's _tantrum, _you little—!"

Gumball stopped to stare at the King, who was noticeable tensed, "Sorry, that was uncalled for. So," he said, suddenly calm, suddenly smiling, "So, so now you're a legal prisoner-of-war, Your Highness. My prisoner. You haven't left _yourself_ in any good straits, either. You must have _some _political knowledge, yes? What do you think could happen to you now, excluding execution?" Flame King stared, confused horror dawning on his face as his imagination supplied all kinds of wonderful alternatives. Both men jumped subtly when the door was knocked on. Gumball peered through the grille, "Yes, I'm fine!" he called through. Then he smiled at the King, "I'll give you some time to think about it, and we'll continue this discussion later. Please, feel free to tell the guard if you require anything."

As the prison door closed behind him, Gumball inhaled and exhaled slowly the dry, cool air of the hallway. He mentally shrugged, alright, so maybe he was a bit of a torturer. He looked at the guard who tapped him on the shoulder, "Yes?"

"Uh, Your Majesty, pardon my question, but," the guard said, twiddling his thumbs, "But was he the only prisoner you were goin' t' visit?"

Gumball blinked, "Only prisoner?"

"Well," the guard rubbed the back of his head, "The Human's gettin' a bit impatient, see, the Maid told me not t' tell you, but—..."

Suddenly Fionna's abrupt absence was succinctly explained. Oh, _fudge...!_

_"MONEEEEET!"_

* * *

_. . .  
_

* * *

"GB, really, it's okay," Fionna couldn't help but laugh, looking as tired as he felt, "I wasn't in there for too long, and it makes sense that Pep would—"

"You didn't deserve that." he interrupted, rubbing his forehead irritably as he escorted her back up to the throne room, "It was my negligence and her wretched pettiness that caused such a stupid error, and for that I'm sorry. And when I give a piece of my mind to that woman, I _swear I'll_—"

Suddenly she grabbed him by the sides of his face, forcing him to stop and look down at her.

"Dude," she frowned at him as his face squished, "_Chill_. I'm fine. It's not important right now, got it? Look, we'll go back, you'll gimme some work to do, and when all the big stuff's done, _then_ you can go on your spaz rant. For now we got stuff to do. 'Kay?"

". . . 'es. . ." he mumbled sullenly, relaxing a little, "Leggo m' face, Fionna?"

She quickly startled back, flushing, "My bad!"

"No, no, I'm sorry," he repeated tiredly, rubbing the back of his head, "This has been very strenuous on everyone."

She smiled lopsidedly, "Yeah."

"We'll still talk later, you understand." he told her, and saw her face visibly 'shut', and cringed to himself.

". . . Yeah." she grumbled. She didn't say anything else to him after that except to acknowledge her instructions.

Gumball sighed to himself as he sat once more at his desk, supporting his temples by his thumbs. This venture was strenuous in more ways than some. Why did things need to be so complicated? He aimed a glare at the Peppermint Maid, who had clearly shown her displeasure at Fionna's release. His own displeasure was _politely _ignored. He rolled his eyes, staring down at the lonely little dregs at the bottom of his tea-cup. He blinked.

"Monet," he said suddenly, thoughtfully.

"Yes?" she clipped out.

He smiled at her, visibly brightening, and Peppermint Maid blinked.

"I would like some _caffeinated coffee_..." he told her.

She stared at him, and saw nothing but sincerity and expectancy.

She swallowed, "Er, yes, Your Highness..."

The Candy Prince nodded, chuckling when she left.

Petty, yes, but he figured he could allow himself some indulgence now and then.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The Flame King idly mentally traced shapes between the submerged flagstones, like some demented connect-the-dots. He wasn't really in too much pain, so long as he didn't do something stupid. He finally looked up, and at a corner of this cell. "The steam reveals your shape," he commented dully, "And nothing disguises that repulsive odor of yours." ". . . Sticks and stones, firebug." the vampire yawned, materializing in the corner, strangely bereft of his Axe guitar. The vampire grinned at him, "And you don't know anything about smells. At least _I_ don't smell like someone drowned a burnt breakfast."

This made Igni sniff, "I suppose you're here to remind me of my situation?" he grumbled.

Marshall Lee laughed drily, leaning against the wall, "Eh, kinda. Mostly just here to remind you why you're _in it_."

The younger King's flare of anger was quickly dampened, causing a fresh wave of steam that made him cough, cringing.

"See," the older King went on over the younger's retching, "GB? He's sweet, real crazy once ya get to know him, and, heh, you know how well I know him, right?" Marshall Lee winked as the Flame King visibly shuddered, "And I get where he's coming from with this." He gestured a hand vaguely, smirking fondly, "But sometimes I think the dude's a little too _soft_."

"So, you'll kick me while I'm down," Igni coughed into his fist, grimacing, "Oh, yes, that will certainly teach me my place..."

"Oh, I didn't say he had the wrong kind of thinking," Marshall chuckled, rubbing his knuckles on his shirt, humming, "I'm not gonna lay a fang on ya today, Hotpants. Today. No promises from then on. The thing is," he said bluntly, "You were doomed to fail with her."

The Flame King glared at him full on, opening his mouth, but then choked as a face from the open graves of nightmares loomed over him, monstrous tongue twisting from a cavernous maw that leered at him with a mouthful of teeth like twisted railroad spikes, eyes glowing as it wafted in and out through the steam. "**Shut your mouth.**" the vision chittered, and then morphed back into the vampire, who wasn't smiling any more.

"Even if me and GB weren't in the picture," he continued, floating above him, seeming to support an elbow on the air, "You were gonna fail. Simple fact. Sure, we were there, sure, we were a quote-unquote obstacle, but otherwise it's all on you, pal. She didn't want you," he wasn't smiling, simply watching as the King's flames noticeably dimmed, "She did, once, yeah. And _what_ did ya do? You ran away with your tail between your legs, and expected to be welcomed back as a hero." The vampire sneered, "Pathetic."

"You know nothing," the Flame King said slowly, angrily, "Of what I've been through, of what I've done. I never wanted this."

The vampire shrugged, "I don't know. Nobody wanted this. Who knows, maybe you don't deserve it," he admitted, "But honestly, I don't care. You wanted too much. She didn't want you, and you hurt her. And then you try to kill me and GB? Well, that kinda behavior doesn't make friends..."

He grinned, "He's gonna play nice, and let you off easy. Me?" The Face rose up again slightly, forming a disturbing visage halfway between one and the other, and the well-lit room seemed to fade and darken at the corners.

"**I'm gonna watch you, li'l kid, I'm never gonna forget all those things you did. **  
**If you ever again threaten me and what belongs to me,  
I'm gonna make you run, I'm gonna make you fear me, **  
**and when you can no longer even crawl away I'll drag you down, down, down until there's no light at all  
not a sliver, scrap, or memory of day **  
**and I'll eat every last drip, drop, and spark of your freaking _red_.**"

He turned back, smiling, "Mmkay?"

The King stared, clearly pale, and Marshall Lee nodded, "Glad we could chat. Stay cool, man!"

He left nonchalantly through the door, alarming the guard.

The vampire snarled at him before he could say anything, slamming him against the wall with a clang of armor, "_Tell anyone I was around here and I'll make ya take singing lessons in **soprano**._ Get it?"

"G-got it." the guard squeaked.

Marshall grinned, "Good!"

He set him down with a pat to the helmeted head, laughing, "Keep up the good work and whatever! And keep a sharp eye out, too, who knows what kind of dastardly character could sneak around in here, know what I'm sayin', chief?"

"Y-yessir."

Marshall Lee laughed, flying back up towards the throne room. Not playing nice sure had its perks.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I don't get why he's gotta be so mad..." Fionna growled. She and Cake were on repair and guard crew. Some of the outer walls had been taken out with an explosion, and a bunch of nasties from the wilds between the Kingdoms were trying to take advantage. Cake's magic stretchy powers aided the construction crew, while Fionna helped defend the perimeter with the Task Force. "I saved their butts!" the heroine continued, absently kicking a lizard thing off the balustrade, its grumbling curses rapidly fading away. "I get that they'd be mad for getting roped into favors, but they're mad at me for _saving_ them?! I don't get it!"

"Honey, they're _guys_," Cake grunted, hoisting building materials from ground level, "Guys are complicated."

Cake glanced at her sister, as she clearly saw the girl was pouting, and sighed.

"When we get through with our junk here, on free time, I'mma tell you stuff, 'kay?" Cake told her.

Fionna looked at her sister, then nodded sullenly, punching something flying and made of teeth until it flew away.

"Okay."

". . . Really, girl, how're you feeling?" Cake asked after a while, having turned huge to hold up a wall that was threatening to collapse until they secured it. Fionna glanced at her, then around the repair site, shaking her head. "I'll tell you later."


	34. Up From the Ashes

The Prince was smiling. This would normally be considered a good, reassuring thing. But this was a _grin_, a grin that looked like it was stretched and stuck there by the corners of his mouth, and frankly the man's eyes looked...funny. Plus, the fact that he was talking roughly 100 mph and could only be understood half the time, and even then only a little more so when he actually _did_ speak English, was also an indicator that he wasn't in a natural frame of mind.

"Then!" he continued, as Doctor Ice Cream got him to stay still long enough to take his pulse, "Then-then-then we would have to set up a new regime, of course, we're not a militant Kingdom naturally but that can be easily remedied because all the basic guidelines and bases and resources and potentialities are right there and oh she would be wonderfully ideal for this wonderful idea if it weren't for her woefully endearing hardheadedness! So ist das Leben!"

"Mmhm," the Doctor said patiently, checking his watch. "And _how_ many cups did you have?"

_"Viele!"_

"Mm_hm_."

The living ice cream cone gently but firmly forced him to lay down, "Let's not put out any big ideas until we're feeling more ourselves, shall we?"

"What are you talking about?" the Prince chuckled, "Ich fühle mich gut!"

"Not in ten minutes you won't." his caretaker warned him, giving a wry smile.

It took six.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"You're slipping again, Benni." the Doctor chided.

"Water, _please_, and I'll listen..." the young man groaned, utterly slack on the table.

He gulped down the cup, with a constant wince from the headache that had slammed down on him like...like something very, very heavy, like lead, glob... "It was just coffee..." he muttered, an arm across his eyes.

"It was a _lot_ of coffee, Benni." he was corrected, "At least it wasn't that dreadful Soda. Still, it doesn't exactly raise morale for one to see their monarch in self-destruct mode." A defiant grumble was the good doctor's reply, and Ice Cream rolled his eyes, checking over his file. "You'll need to rest for a while, sire, and make sure to stay hydrated before we can continue with anything el—" "Am I selfish?"

The Doctor blinked at his patient, "Sorry?"

Gumball looked at him wearily from the shade under his arm, "Am I a selfish person?"

Ice Cream gave a quirked smile, "I'm not exactly that type of doctor, Your High—"

"You know what I'm talking about!" the Royal snapped, and grimaced when his confidante flinched back.

"Sorry, sorry..." he groaned, covering his eyes again, "Never mind it..."

Another cup of water was thrust into his face, shoving his arm aside. He blinked, and drank it.

"You have a lot of responsibilities," the Doctor observed while he drank, "And you've been taxed even more so lately, because of all _this_." the cone gestured vaguely to the area outside of the private ward, where they could faintly hear the sounds of construction work.

"You are..." the Doctor checked the files on the Prince's pulse work, "Stressed, tired, slightly malnourished, dehydrated, and emotionally drained. I am aware of your investments in this endeavor, sire, _all _of your investments..." He smiled as Gumball's face flushed.

"It's not a small thing, what you're putting yourself through."

"But," he continued, "You are doing your best to not let it interfere with your priorities to the Crown. And if I'm right, you're making sure that that particular investment won't crash should it fail. And while I might not approve of the wisdom of the arrangement, I'm appreciative of the care you're putting into it. Such care does not imply a selfish disposition, in the usual sense of the term. So, no, I do not think you're selfish. Not in a bad way."

Gumball peeked at the older Candy Person, eyes slightly wide over the blush.

"Currently, the only thing I really think is selfish was that _stupid_ disregard for your health." the Doctor sniffed, "You're not a child any more, Your Highness, so don't curl up and brood like one, for Glob's sake. Drink the water, rest, and then get back to work. You have a Kingdom to care for."

Gumball nodded quietly, smiling a bit as Ice Cream left, and then fell back to a blank expression as he stared at the meringue-esque ceiling.

He was in mid-swallow when the door slammed open, the shock of the sound making him choke. The intruder quickly patted his back, and he heard her exclamations over his coughing, and had very mixed feelings stir in his heart-guts besides potential asphyxiation.

"You're okay?!" Fionna asked, panting as he cleared his throat, and he noticed she must've run very quickly, "They said there was—that you were goin'—that you—and you were—you're okay?" she finished helplessly. He breathed heavily, looking up at her, wiping off his mouth, "Yes..." he mumbled, coughing into his fist, before giving her a more proper smile, "I'm fine, really, thank you..." he chuckled weakly, "I was just stupid."

Fionna stared at him, then let out a breath, sitting in a nearby chair, "Stupid's _my_ job, dude." she pointed out, frowning when he laughed a bit more, "I'll let _you_ have the coffee then! _Oh fudge, my lungs..._"

"Sorry for freaking," she mumbled, wincing at his hack attack. "Just...sorry, yeah..."

He smiled so she couldn't see, hand on his face as he focused on breathing, "I hope the stupidity on my part didn't cause any inconvenience on yours?" he asked. Out of the edge of his vision he saw her shake her head, "Nah, nah, I was on my way here anyway... It's just..."

". . . What is it?" he asked, looking at her after a few beats of quiet. She wasn't looking at him, rather than at the floor, expression indefinable.

"I want to see Ig—I want to see the Flame King..." she mumbled.

He blinked, that fuzzy feeling of her caring slightly dimmed, ". . . Ah."

She squirmed in her seat, and then she blurted out, "I'm sorry for all this mess and you with all this and I know I sound stupid and selfish but it's not what it—!"

"Alright."

She blinked.

"Huh?"

"I said it's alright," he repeated, faintly smiling at her, "Find a guard and they'll escort you to his cell."

She stared, "You're feeling okay, GB?"

He laughed, "Perfectly! Go visit your friend."

She was still staring, and then she moved up, and the Candy Prince was surprised that her hand was on his forehead.

"Uh, Fionna...?" he began, but then her hand felt his cheek, poked it, stretched one of his eyes a bit wider while she squinted, scrutinizing, and then she was staring down at him. She smiled, seeming a bit sad, "Thank you. Don't...don't overdo it, okay?"

". . . Okay. . ." he mumbled, sincerely hoping his face wasn't a darker shade of red.

Then he sat up, and both of them blushed at their faces' close proximity, "I... We...we still need to talk about all of this—"

"I'mgonnagofindaguardnomorecoffeeforyoudangit!" she babbled out, full-on red and running out of the room.

". . . Soon." he finished lamely, staring at the door.

There were a few more beats of quiet, and he fell back on the cot with a groan. Then he heard the humming.

"_And all of his thoughts...and all of his plans...couldn't put his noggin back together again..._" a voice chuckled.

"She's too freaking adorable, isn't she?"

"She's charming, yes..." the Prince grumbled, scanning the ceiling, but seeing no one.

"Uh-uh, not gonna show my handsome mug right now, Bubba. There're eyes on ya, besides mine."

"Hmm, unusual for you to care." Bubba noted with a smirk, rolling over onto his side, and sighing.

"What can I say? We're a nice view. Good shows don't come free, and I like my anonymity." he heard him chuckle. There was a bit more quiet, and he heard the vampire's voice closer to his ear, "Really, you alright?" Gumball shrugged, out of words, and Marshall Lee hummed. "I think you're thinking wrong, Gummy Bear."

"Do share..."

"Maybe," the Vampire King continued, "It's not that you should think 'Am I selfish?', but rather, 'Is this worth it?'"

The Candy Prince blinked, and rolled back over thoughtfully, "Hm."

"You didn't ruin anything for those two, GB," Marshall continued, "It was all on him. Not you."

"We have different morals, Marshall," Gumball pointed out, "I tend to think along difference lines. Like maybe if I'd—"

The air shut him up, feeling like a hand.

"What's in the past stays there, if wishes were horses we'd have shiploads of horses, insert wise stuff here, yadda-yadda-_ya_. Now back to the important stuff. Why'd ya let her go, huh?" he was asked, "Could've played the 'wounded hero' card, 'kicked puppy', whatever, take your pick..."

"I'm honoring my agreement, Marshall. Are you angry?" Gumball asked when he was un-silenced.

"Heck, yeah, _genius_. _You_ nearly crashed yourself. _She_ was almost crying. Did you notice? When she looked at Flame Cube? I smelled the stress. No one makes her cry but me. And she's stressed _all the freaking **time**_ now. And with all this junk? Well, yeah, I'm pretty freaking ticked."

"Then why didn't _you _distract her? You might have intercepted her in that conveniently sneaky way you have." the Prince retorted.

The vampire was quiet.

". . . Heck if I know, it seemed like you felt easy enough about it." he grumbled.

"I trust her," he replied simply, "Sort of. I might not understand, but I know she has good intentions, at least. I wish she trusted _me_, but..."

"We'll all talk later." Marshall reminded him, and Gumball felt like he was right in front of his face. "We won't like it, heck, I just wanna kill him, kiss her, keep her, kick back and call it a day, but...but we'll talk...alright?"

". . . Thank you." Gumball laughed, and then leaned in.

. . .

"That's my nose, you dork. . ."

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna stood in front of the door, feeling her stomach flip-flop and scrunch.

"20 minutes, and I'll check on ya," the guard told her nervously, and she nodded. "Thanks."

She stepped in, and could practically drink the air in here, warm and foggy, making her blink. She wiped at her eyes as she immediately started to sweat, grimacing at the damp feel of her hair under her hat. When she thought of dungeons or cells she thought of cold, dark, damp places, like the one the Maid had put her in. But this place was bright, warm, but definitely damp.

Her eyes locked onto her target, who looked back at her with little more than a raised eyebrow.

The two stared at each other, and then she seethed, "You're so...so..."

"Stupid? Childish? Selfish?" he listed off boredly, leaning against a wall that dried from his flames.

"_Dead_." she snarled, and to his surprise she stormed at him, catching him up by the necklace around his throat, "Why'd you go after them, huh?!" she yelled at him, steam hissing between them as his flames fluttered ineffectively against the film of moisture on her skin, "Why'd you blow everything up, huh?! You were mad at _me! _You should'a gotten mad at _me_, dangit! _I'm_ the one you should've freaking tried to blow up _so why **didn't **you?!_"

"M-maybe it's not all about you, _princess_, ever think of that?!" he shouted back, immediately regretting using that once endearing term, and then regretted it even more sharply, choking as her fist smacked into his gut with a solid _thwack_.

She backed off as he gagged, tugging at the ears of her hat in frustration, "You freaking—you—_aaargh!" _

She hammered on the door, "Hey, guard person! Let this dude out _right_ _now_ so I can kick his butt without feeling guilty about it!"

Now he was sure she had gone insane.

He lunged at her as her back was turned, hooking his arms under her shoulders and dragging her away from the door, hissing as the water lapped against his ankles and sizzled against his skin, grunting at the struggles of the human. "Quit it!" she shouted, and then threw him back to the dry platform, breathing heavily as she glared at him, and he breathed deeply, waiting for the stinging to go away, glaring right back.

"Gah!" she spat, and sat against the opposite wall, never minding that she sat in water, forehead in her hand.

". . . Are you quite finished with attempting to murder me?" he growled.

"Shut up." she hissed.

A guard peeked hesitantly into the door, "Uh, Human...?"

"GET OUT!" they both shouted, and the door slammed shut with a hurried squeak.

There was more heavy silence, akin to the thick, stifling weight of the steam.

He didn't look at her as he rubbed his throat, noting the skin that had chafed from the necklace's chain. His stomach hurt, too, and maybe something that felt like his heart-guts, but he wasn't going to let her know that. "I'm sorry..." he heard her mumble, and fought the urge to snort. Fought and failed.

"Why did you come here, Fionna...?" he asked tiredly.

She shrugged, looking hopeless, "I'm mad..." she admitted, "And I wanted to see if you were sorry."

"Hm." he stretched, not looking at her, and then he looked at her, and stared.

Dark circles under her eyes, clothing scuffed and worn with dust that turned to delicate filmy layers of mud, bruised in places, scraped in others, and then he recalled the stress of the Prince, and the harshness of that cursed Vampire King. Everyone was tired.

". . . I am sorry." he sighed, kneading the bridge of his nose.

"I don't care," he heard her snap, and winced as he looked at her, but she didn't look angry, she just looked determined. "Y'know, I don't care what you're sorry for," she continued bluntly, "Heck, I don't care what _anyone's_ sorry for, we all know our sorries... What is—..." she paused, and then really looked at him, "What are you gonna do from here? What's gonna happen now, Igni? What're ya gonna do to fix it?"

He looked at her, and then looked at the floor, "After this is resolved," he sighed, "I will resign myself as King. And then I'll—"

Fionna abruptly made a _very _annoying buzzer sound.

"Wrong answer." she told him, leaning on her knees and glaring, "You're gonna keep that freaking metaphor Crown, Igni, and you're gonna fix this as the freaking Flame _King_. You messed up as a King and you're gonna fix it as one, got it?!"

He stared at her in shock, "B-but I'm not ready to properly _be_ a Ki—" Very, very annoying buzzer sound. "Start studying, then," she interrupted angrily, "Glob dangit, I am _not _gonna let you run away from junk again, Flame King. Learn how to, because you got yourself into this, and you'll get yourself through it."

She glared at him, "No. More. Running."

She stood up as he stared at her, shaking her head and rapping her knuckles on the door, "I got stuff to do, but I—I don't know what else to tell ya, man. But don't you _dare_ run away again, Igni, 'cause if you do," she waited as the guard opened the door, and looked over her shoulder to seethe, blushing, "I'll do what I should'a done years ago, and _drag _you back here by your freaking skirt in a_ wedgie._"

He stared at the door as it shut, gaping, his only companion now the hiss of the steam. "It's a _shendyt_!" he protested uselessly, "And how does one even _get_ a wedgie from a—?!" he stopped that line of thought, blushing, and decided he really didn't want to know. Now he had even more things to think about, but then smiled slightly.

At least being shouted at showed she was angry enough to care.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The guard shifted nervously as the Human just sat there beside the door, arms crossed around her knees, and what face she didn't hide was bright red, whether from the steam or from embarrassment the guard couldn't tell and didn't want to speculate for fear of singing lessons.

"Are you alright, Miss Human?" he asked, and she waved a hand at him. "I'm fine, gimme a moment..."

To tell the truth, she was embarrassed into crippling shame about all the things she said. She could've said something so much cooler than 'wedgie'. That, and just sitting in the water like that was a terrible, stupid idea, so she was going to wait until she dried off a bit more.

"Blarghrfrblnngnnrr..." she mumbled.

* * *

**Author's note: **_Hello, there! I am sorry for delays concerning my work. Life has been happening, but I hope to be back to normal pretty soon. Thank you very much for your patience, and reviews are as always appreciated. Thank you again!_

_The hatchling_


	35. We Grow

Fionna sat in the main square marketplace, guarding (or just sitting next to, really) a caravan of carts while their owners went to negotiate getting spots to sell their stuff from. They were probably talking to GB. Yeah, or at least, getting dealt with by GB in the roundabout wordy way things worked in the place. Fionna thought about Gumball, lying on a cot, looking crashed and cruddy and _caved_... Her fist tightened against the road's cobblestones, as she glared at the building bones of the Castle, and then sighed, relaxing her fist, and crossed her legs, closing her eyes. Angry was stupid right now, no time for angry.

She breathed in, and out, and started to think of the stuff Cake had said.

"Don't even think about it, dude." she muttered, eyes still closed, before a shifty outsider could touch the people's merchandise. It slunk off, grumbling, and she started relaxing again. What Cake said, _breathe in_, what Cake said, _breathe out_, what Cake said...

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Fionna," Cake started when they were on their break, "First thing about guys is that they're _guys_. They like to hit stuff and be badawesome about it."

Fionna pouted, "_I_ like to hit stuff and be badawesome about it..." she pointed out, feeling miffed.

Cake patted her head quickly, "You're special, baby. Now, how often does Gumbo tell ya t' do what you do, hm?"

Fionna sat back against the giant cat's tummy, seriously thinking. She remembered a pink file, papers flying all over the place while Marshall Lee laughed.

"Not much, really, I guess... When it's important to him." she sighed.

"Mmhm, and this important thing was _big_," Cake said, "Like big blue whale-fish thing big. Like _big _me big. They was worried about you, and you know how you wanna keep Gumball outta the way of all the fighting and stuff, right? Well, now it was those boys' turn, but you were there anyway."

"They _needed_ my _help..._" she growled, "They were gonna... FK was..."

The _wrongness_ of the whole thing still made something twist up inside, making her throat tighten up.

"I know, I know, I know," Cake said quickly, "I know, they did a bad call, and you did a...sorta less bad call, but I'm just tellin' ya how things are gonna be. Good doesn't always bring better. They wanted to keep ya safe, and you, frankly, did the complete opposite. Hurt their egos. Those boys have big egos."

They both giggled a bit. 'Egos' sounded funny.

". . . But I'm not sorry." Fionna stated, frowning again.

"Oh, you better be," Cake told her, squishing the sides of Fionna's face, "Girl, they were _worried_. That was a big personal mess and you did a big personal thing and that's just something you gotta own up for, no matter why. Let yourself be rescued a little, 'kay?"

"Don't shee why should..." the heroine mumbled defiantly. Cake frowned, "Right, can't believe I'm saying this, but be a fluffing _girl_ and let them be fluffing _guys_ and think about it, 'kay?! You owe those boys that!"

"I resh—gah, I rescued their butts!" Fionna told her, spreading the paws away.

"And stomped all over their feels!" the cat told her back, as Fionna continued to defy her face-squishing paws, and the defiance was futile, "Which is _not_ somethin' I'm gonna let you think is okay to do, Fionna!" she finished sternly.

Fionna was quiet, blinking as Cake let her face go, and the cat thought the human might not have thought about that, ". . . Plus," Cake said, glancing around, "If you say your sorries and stuff, and let _yourself_ be rescued a bit for once, they'll back down a lot quicker..."

"But that'll be me backing down!" Fionna protested.

"As far as _they _know," Cake purred, "Y'kno~ow?"

Fionna blinked again, not really knowing, "Oh."

"Mm_hm_," Cake nodded, patting her on the head, "Plus, you need t' think about how they feel. Like say...say some girlfriend a' Gumbo's goes all cray-cray and goes after you, and ya wanna keep him safe. Would ya want Gumbo to be beat up with the cray-cray after ya told him not to?"

Fionna blushed, "No." She didn't know how she'd feel about Gumball having a girlfriend either.

"There ya go!" Cake finished.

They sat there for a moment.

". . . D-does GB have a girlfriend, d'you think?" Fionna asked, blushing, and watched Cake suddenly go blank.

"Ngh. . . Nope." Cake mumbled, "Nope, no-o-ope, Gummy Boy does _not_ have a girlfriend."

For some reason the heroine felt more relaxed, but still uneasy, "Oh...okay..."

Cake shrunk down, rolling around Fionna, "I gotta go see my Mo real quick, 'kay?" she asked frantically.

Fionna nodded, smiling, "Thanks, Cake."

Cake snaked away, and Fionna leaned against the wall instead, thinking about how others would feel.

Why _should_ she worry if Gumball had a girlfriend anyway? She'd shut those think-things off forever ago...

* * *

. . .

* * *

Monochromicorn was carefully not making any sudden moves while the love his life held his face, staring with blown pupils at him, ". . . Those boys freaking owe me big time." she mumbled, and then hugged him. He returned the hug, bewildered, but planning to have another 'talk' with his old friend once all this mess was blown over.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna sighed, opening her eyes, leaning against one of the trader's carts. She nodded firmly to herself. Okay.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I'll cooperate." he said bluntly.

Gumball blinked, looking up from his notes, the waterproofing holding out, and looked at the Flame King.

". . . I hadn't even told you yet what that might entail." the Prince said, tilting his head.

"I know," the young King leaned his elbows on his knees, slightly smiling, "But you let her visit me, and we...discussed matters..."  
He rubbed his abused stomach in grimacing memory, "She didn't really hold back."

They both heard a quiet snicker that came from neither of them, and both of them most definitely did _not _look around.

"It was by her request," Gumball continued shortly, looking back at his file, "Not by _my_ suggestion."

"I determined as much, and I was civil." was the laughing observation. "And I kept your secret..."

". . . Which will be noted and given appreciation." the Candy Prince replied, and this time the disembodied snicker was more of a grumble.

"Is she alright?" the Flame person asked. Gumball looked at him again, quiet, and reluctantly smiled. "I think she's well."

"Alright. I...I kept your secret," the King repeated, "And I am genuinely sorry. And I will cooperate, but under some...conditions..."

This time there was a quiet _snarl_ that they both ignored.

"Conditions?" Gumball asked politely. Flame King nodded, a more proud smile on his face, "Just these few, that I ask as a _delegate_..."

The emphasis raised an eyebrow for the Prince, who looked the King over.

He did not seem so sulky or as apathetic as before. Now he looked a bit more resolute, determined.

". . . We might be inclined to work something out." the Prince allowed, and watched the subtle glint of relief.

A beneficial turnaround, but Gumball had hung around Marshall long enough to develop some skepticism.

Still, who knows, perhaps the younger man _had_ needed a good punch in the gut.

When he later told this to Marshall, the vampire had expressed preference to the good punch being a few inches lower...

* * *

. . .

* * *

Less than a couple of weeks later, the repair and reconstruction of the Candy Kingdom was deemed efficient, and quite timely. It was nearly complete thanks to the help of neighboring Kingdoms, and complete enough to be mostly functional, especially the Castle. Financial situations aside, everything was pretty much back to normal for the Candy citizens. Well, except for a few things...

Their Prince had wrung the Flame King for all he was worth on information about fire, and was already setting up several programs to educate the Candy citizens about the stuff. There were even people from the Flame Kingdom who came over, giving demonstrations and their own lessons, and in some cases entertainment, once they got over the fact that Candy people didn't really care about status, nor had a devious bone nor similar supporting structure in their bodies. It was actually kind of fun, even if learning to avoid caramelization was sort of an 'on the job' experience. The Flame people benefited from this, as well. For one thing, they learned that there was such thing as 'cuteness', and learned how to maintain their dignity and patience—and flame—in the face of such cuteness. It turned into a sort of contest about which of the Flame people could attract more social interaction with the Candy people.

The Flame people discovered pop rocks and lava sundaes.

The Candy people discovered fireworks and pyrotechnics.

The Flame people discovered control and a sort of humility.

The Candy people discovered more maturity and awareness.

There were 'hiccups' every now and then, of course, as the cultures of very different personalities interacted, learned, and adapted. But all in all, everyone agreed the meeting was beneficial. And then there was the culmination of all efforts, when the repairs were complete, the connections established, and things were settled. Now they would hear the Flame King speak.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Igni stood at the podium, on the stage they'd set up in this Kingdom's main square, Prince Gumball behind him, slightly to the side. He saw some of his own subjects in the crowd, saw the Candy people's polite expression of confused interest, saw the slight sneers and expressed scoffs of his own people, heard their muttering, _whispering..._ He felt his jaw set and that burn inside flare slightly, but swallowed it, when he saw the fire lions at the edge of the gathering, patiently waiting, when he saw the ears of _her_ hat, also near the edge, and the burn turned into a painful throb. He'd given up on his emotional pride when he'd attacked this place. Now was the time to gather and store away any scraps he had left.

He cleared his throat of ash and old bitterness, and spoke, "I am Igni, King of the Flames, and I stand before you of my own will, to say I am sorry..."

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna listened, arms crossed, as he talked. She held her gaze steady, but even while she stared at him, he never glanced her way again except for that first time he spotted her. It hurt, kinda, it made her throat tighten again, but she made herself listen. She owed him that.

". . . and the actions I took were those of a youth, those of someone who wouldn't wear his Crown. . ."

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I can't say why I took those actions. But the reasoning was petty, the excuse unpardonable... And I hurt people."

Marshall Lee sneered to himself, hovering invisibly over the crowd. For some reason he didn't enjoy it when the guy _admitted_ to his stupid-headedness. The twerp was willingly rolling over and showing his belly, and that took all the fun out of gloating. Maybe he could get a rise out of him later, just a little one. After all, it wasn't fair that Fionna was the only one who got to beat him up.

"I will become a King that honors my people, that honors the throne..."

Marshall Lee rolled his eyes at the words. They'd see how well the little spitfire lived up to his pretty promises. He'd be watching...

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball listened patiently, feeling reluctant pride. It had taken a lot of arguing, a lot of compensations, compromises, mental strength... Long evenings of instruction, planning, to prepare this King for the true burden of his Crown. But Gumball was now the Flame King's unofficial advisor, in some cases. It had been an interesting experience, teaching someone who was only a few years younger than himself such an extensive undertaking as politics. He didn't trust the man, yet, not hardly. But they'd reached an understanding, of sorts, and something might come of that.

". . .and I know that my words now might not make up for my actions then. But my actions from now on will reflect the lessons I've learned.

I am here, and...and I am sorry."

Gumball nodded slightly, as everyone politely applauded the Flame King. Something might come from it. Eventually.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna flinched a little, maybe, as with those last words he'd looked right at her. She only frowned a little bit, not daring to look away, but...she nodded. He'd said the stuff she wanted to hear. That small smile, that nervous little tic at the corner of his mouth, then turned into a real smile, and he looked like he was relieved, and she felt the stirrings of a flush on her face. She stomped on those flutter-things quickly, and instead clapped along with everyone else, smile quirking awkwardly on her face. And then, in true Candy Kingdom character, everybody partied.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall chuckled even when he felt like growling. These little cavities _were _crazy, wanting every excuse to party. But partying meant dancing, which meant music, and the vampire was all for that, his newly strung Axe blaring out over the crowd. It was fun to watch those uptight Flames let loose a little, too. Certainly made it more entertaining when they had to watch their fire, or forgot to. The King cackled when a particular table dance turned into a bonfire, but everyone seemed to enjoy it. Even made li'l s'mores out of it. Turns out the Flames loved burnt marshmallows. Too freaking cute. Too freaking hilarious. Ah-ha-ha-a-ah whatever...

"_Gonna bring this place all down,_

_Gonna burn it all straight to the ground,_

_On a sugar high as the sparks all fly_

_On a freaking sugar crash and burn..._"

He spotted two particular people in the crowd, feeling a rumble in his throat as one got a bit closer to the other. Watch those flames, son...

"_Burn, ya crazies, burn..._"

She let him get close, but... Marshall wasn't gonna grudge, not today... Let those kiddies have their fun. For now.  
He learned the mess it made when he last swung his blade around without thinking.

"_Gonna bring this place down to ashes,_

_Watch the flakes catch on your eyelashes,_

_It's a riot, what a fine wildfire,_

_Give me the matches, now it's my turn..._"

He chuckled to himself, yeah, why _should _he be jealous? The guy didn't have a chance.

"_So burn, ya crazies, burn..._"

He'd snag a dance with her later. Later.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Would you dance with me?"

There were a lot of people around, and Fionna could never think straight when on the spot. She took his hand, warily, and let the Flame King lead her into a dance.

"It was...it was good..." she admitted quietly, and watched that bright smile light up his face, and winced to herself.

"Thank you." he muttered back, still smiling like a goof as they stepped around and around in careful circles.

He pulled her closer a little bit, and she tensed, until he put his mouth near her ear.

"You'll see..." he told her, some of that old smirk back on his face, "I won't run. I will become someone you will be proud of, that you will regret passing over..."

There she heard the Flame Prince instead of the Flame King, the one who'd grin before he burned down his enemy, the one who liked to explore the world instead of sit on a throne, the one who enjoyed challenges instead of triumphs. She understood that Igni.

She smirked back at him as he retreated again, "Can't wait." she replied simply.

They both laughed, awkwardly, and she thought it over, before shrugging, "You're stupid." and kissing him on the cheek, added "But you'll do good."

His face darkened to a harsh orange, and his flames flared, and she winced, "Bad! Bad! Bad!"

The flames pulled back in, quickly, "S-sorry." he stammered, "Th-thank you, Fionna..."

He pulled her back into the dance, but his movements were more stilted, clumsy, and she laughed.

"Stupid..."

"Can't be helped, princess..." he muttered, and she laughed again.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball watched with amusement, as the young King was apparently brought back to adolescence by her actions. He wondered, sometimes, if Fionna really was as naïve as she'd often come across as. But that was a puzzle for another day. For now they would celebrate, and enjoy the currently resolved tension. Well, almost resolved. He felt the murderous intent at his back.

"We taught her too freaking well..." was the grumble.

Gumball shrugged slightly, smirking over his shoulder, "Feeling insecure?"

"Let's just say if I do something quote-unquote _unpolitical_, then we blame her."

Gumball laughed, and Marshall squinted at his friend, "You can't tell me you're not ticked?"

". . . No. I'm really not," Gumball sighed, smiling at the two, "Her intent wasn't like ours. She meant it from one friend to another, and they both know it. They've both grown. I can't find it in myself to disrespect that... I'm kind of proud, really."

"Softie. Don't get too sentimental."

"Don't get too stupid."

"Promises, promises, Bub." was the vampire's chuckle, and Gumball felt his presence disappear from his side.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Hey-y, Sparky!" was all the warning either of them got before Flame King was yanked away from Fionna, and she gaped as the vampire led him away by the shoulder.

Well, shoved.

Some might even say dragged.

"Was lookin' all over for ya! Got some time to talk? You do? Gre-eat! Don't wait up, Fifi!"

"B-but I—?!"

Fionna stared, worry and confusion crashing together in her brains, and considered following them before someone tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around to face Gumball, and she couldn't help a face-flush as he smoothly took her into another dance.

". . . Marshall took Igni." she finally had the brains to say, and the Prince nodded, smiling.

"Don't worry," he told her, "There will be no undead armies or catastrophic wildfires."

She still didn't look reassured, "Is that all you're promising?"

He laughed, leading her into a dip, "Politicians can only do so much, Fionna! Don't let them bother you. Here, this next song has some swing to it. Remember that dance?"

Perhaps it was a survival or some sort of self-preservation instinct, but Fionna let herself get distracted by Gumball, even she could tell that was what he was doing, and comforted herself by agreeing she would start worrying about the other guys if the screaming lasted for more than ten seconds.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I didn't threaten her!" the Flame King squeaked in protest as he was forced through the crowd, "I swear I did not!"

"No, no, man, I know you didn't." Marshall Lee chuckled, shoving him down on an unoccupied seat, "This isn't about our golden girl. This's about _you _and _me_."

The vampire winked, remembering that perverse pleasure that made the younger King shudder, and laughed, "No, really, take a load off, have a drink!"

He put down a cup of something bright, bright red in front of Igni, taking a cup of it himself, and smirked at the King's look of disgust. "Relax, dude, it's just juice."

The Flame King blinked, and sniffed at the liquid, "But I can't drink—_oh_!" He sipped, and the liquid didn't steam or sizzle as it ran down his throat. It was smooth, hot, and slightly bittersweet and smoky, sticking to his insides like viscous magma, "Emberry juice?!" He laughed, taking a bigger gulp, "I haven't had this in ages!"

"Yeah, hah, Gumball gets all the goods," Marshall agreed, slightly toasting him, watching carefully as he drained the cup, "Drink up!"

"Y-you're not mad?" Igni asked uneasily, as Marshall refilled his cup from the thick clay jug.

"Ah, I can put that aside for a party, can't I?" the vampire chuckled, taking some sips of his own, coughing. Dang, this stuff was hot, but tasted good.

Flame King nodded uncertainly, but drank again, the cup blocking his vision of the vampire's brief, predatory, railroad spike grin.


	36. Peace and Stuff

"_Let's_ drink the burning drink!

_Let's_ drink while _Rome_ burns!

_Until_ the embers are _on_ the ground,

_Then_ we get _another_ round!

Drink _down_ the cup then _fill_ it back up

And _then_ we'll all return!"

They each downed another shot glass of the juice, slamming down the cups in time to the rhythm, laughing.  
The crowd clapped to keep the beat of the chant as the shots were refilled.  
This was a fun game to watch.

"_Let's_ drink the burning drink!

_Let's_ drink while—_while what? London. oh!_—while _London_ burns!

_Until_ the ashes are _on_ the ground,

_Then_ we get _another_ round!

Drink _down_ the cup then _fill_ it back up

And _then_ we'll all return!"

_"Hey, hey-hey-hey... What is London?"_

_"Shut up and keep goin', Sparkles. Okay, okay, Chicago this time!"_

_"This's fermented! You let the stuff ferment!"_

_"Are you complaining?!"_

_"Glob, no!"_

"_Let's_ drink the burning drink!

_Let's_ drink while _Chicago_ burns! . . ."

It was after the verse about someone called Jimi Hendrix's guitar that they decided no one won.

"And really, really, rea-a-ally..." Marshall Lee repeated while the younger King laughed, an arm around the Flame King's shoulders to both guide him and hold him up. They were a bit further away from the crowd now, "It blew up. The oven _blew. Up._ I mean, no sparks or nothin', just boom! And _you_, buddy, reminded me of that."

"S'rry..." the Flame muttered, grinning, "Boom? Ha-ha-ah, no. I was 'Bang!' Boom is more fun."

"If it's meant in fun, yeah," Marshall Lee agreed, chuckling, "And you didn't mean fun, did ya?"

"Sooorryyy!" Igni laughed again, and Marshall Lee shook his head at him, grinning, and shoved him away, slightly rough. "Ah-h, buds are forgivin', right, pal?" the vampire asked, as the Flame stumbled against a tree, the bark crackling and smoking. "We're all _friends_, here, right?" Marshall Lee asked again, grinning patiently.

Flame King held up a finger, "Not...no-ot like that, man..." he warned, and then stared at the little fluttering flame that lit up on his fingertip.

"Ha-ha, yeah, no, don't worry about that, Iggy." the older King was quick to reassure, smirking, "I don't like guys."

That made Igni frown at him, blinking, "But you're with...?"

"GB? Yeah, 'cause he's _GB_." Marshall Lee told him, hands linked behind his head as he lazily checked around. The crowd was thinning out, "Didn't matter if he was a dude or a chick, I would've hooked up with G-freaking-B. Sure, I've messed around but...nah...you're not my type..."

Then he leaned in, smirking slowly, shocking that growing sneer off of the younger's face, "Unless you were thinkin' about it?"

The Flame King lurched back with a wordless squawk, and the vampire cracked up, "I'm just messing with ya, runt." he told him, knuckling him roughly in the shoulder.

"Ow! Ah-ha-ha!" Igni laughed uncertainly, as Marshall Lee kept grinning.

"Ah-ha-ha." Marshall Lee replied drily, "Gotcha, didn't I?" He shoved at the shoulder again with his fist, fit to make the younger man stumble back.

Igni's grin became more vicious, as he kept chuckling, "Ha-ha, yeah..." and he shoved back, adding a little more flame to it to make the vampire hiss.

"_Nnnrgh_...! . . . Ha. It's all just good _fun_, isn't it, _buddy?_" Marshall Lee growled, this time using both hands to shove him again in the chest, red eyes glowing.

"Indeed, comrade! Aha-ha." the King replied, smiling as the flames flared viciously at the edges of him.

"Aha-_ha_."

"Hm-hm. . ."

They both stared at each other.

". . . I will break your face, ya snobby li'l spitfire."

"I will blunt your teeth, perverted shadow-scum."

Later on, both would claim they threw the first punch.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna looked uncertainly as a lot of the crowd was moving over to another edge of the field. She hadn't heard any screams, but she heard shouts, chants, and what sounded like drums. She turned to Gumball even as he turned her away while they danced, "Are you _sure _it's—?"

"Let them be," he told her, confirming her suspicions while smiling, but now she could see the smile was strained, "They need to let off some...steam... And frankly, I'd rather we _not_ get involved. I find their immature brawling a bit too unsavory for my taste, and _you _certainly don't need that. Let's not let them ruin our fun."

She grimaced, "But they might—!"

"_Relax_, Fionna!" he laughed, twirling her, making her yelp, "We have our issues, yes? But let's forget them for now, avoid stress, hm? Don't you want me to avoid stress?"

She made an adorably nervous face as he smiled down at her, the girl clearly torn.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"You don't _deserve_ her. Neither of you do." the Flame King hissed in undertone as he held the vampire in a hold, aware of their inconvenient audience, holding back his burning. Still, the half-demon's skin was taking on a more charred hue. "Hypocrite," Marshall Lee laughed quietly, before knocking his head back into the younger King's nose, and cheers from the Candy people, and even the Flames, broke out as the royal Flame stumbled back. Marshall continued, laughing, still too quiet for anyone to hear, "Pushy little brats don't get the girl," he got down on a knee to leer at Igni as he writhed on the ground, "_Men _do. You still got some growing to do, pipsqueak, before I can even consider you're any good for her. Or any challenge for _me_." His gloating kind of backfired, though, when the Flame King grabbed the front of his shirt so that Marshall's own nose could come into sharp contact with the Flame's forehead jewel thing with a _CRACK! _It turned into less talking and more brawling, as both sides of the crowd cheered or booed for both guys, and the drums beat wildly, raising the riot to new heights of energy.

The younger King used his flames, but never enough to incinerate.

The older King used his forms, but never enough to eviscerate.

Fang, fist, flame, and claw were used within the barest minimums of restraint, an unspoken agreement to do no more damage than two angry men could express by flesh alone. They'd had enough with war to bring it into a little fight. However, this unspoken agreement didn't say anything about chokeholds.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Gumball, I really don't think—" Fionna protested, blushing as a particular move brought them closer.

The Prince's smile was wistful, admiring if lamenting her distracting concerns, "Is my company not good enough, Fionna?"

She shook her head quickly, "No, no, aw, man, I'm sorry, GB, but they're—we really can't ignore—!"

"We can pretend." he suggested, leaning in perhaps a bit more than was considered proper, "Besides, I have Monet observing the situation, should it—"

"BELOW THE BE-E-ELT! BELOW THE BELT, YOU SISSI-I-IES!" they heard the Peppermint Maid screech from the crowd, and the drumbeats increased in tempo.

Fionna grinned nervously, as Gumball groaned, hanging his head, ". . . _Idiots_..." he muttered unhappily, giving up.

She made them stop, patting him on the shoulder, "I'll take care of it." she murmured, running off despite his protests, "Fionna, I..."

. . . Gumball sighed, crossing his arms, as he glared to where she was running, and then went to find himself a minor, drinkable vice, allowing himself a twinge of selfishness. He didn't _want_ her to take care of it. He sipped carefully, observing as the ruckus parted for her, closed around her, and then increased for a moment before there was laughter and groans, and shook his head. Somehow he'd need to convince her to...to forget being a hero, for once...

* * *

. . .

* * *

"What're you two dumbskulls _doing_?!"

"Stay outta this, Fionna! This is—_urgh! Dangit!_—this's a freaking guy thing, okay?!"

"GAAAH! _Agh_—it is a way my people prove their superiority, princess! I need to show this—_rgh_—scum his place!"

"Oh, I'll show _you_ a place! It's where the sun doesn't freaking shine!"

"Oh?! Going to give me a _local's_ tour, are you?!"

A few people in the crowd shouted out "BUUURN!"

Fionna's fist ground into her forehead as she watched them wrestle, seething.

"Do you guys know how stupid you look right now?!" she shouted, "Do you have to do this _now_?! Quit it!"

"THIS IS NOTHING _YOU_ WOULD UNDERSTAND!" they shouted at her while strangling each other, and both abruptly, quietly realized this was exactly the wrong thing to say.

Fionna glared at them as the crowd hooted and hollered, and her fists clenched fit to pop the knuckles.

"Looks like we need to cool some heads again, huh?" she growled out, and abruptly reached into the tumbling chaos to grab the back of each male's scalp by the hair, pulled them apart over half-babbled protests, and brought them back together with an audible SPACK.  
_  
_She glared at the crowd as they cheered, and her two 'friends' lay on the ground in a daze, the grass quietly scorching and curling around Igni's prone form.

"This's a _peace _thing, dangit!" she shouted at them, "And you both are gonna do peace or I'll freaking _make _ya do peace! Geez!"

"Wha? No flowers?" Marshall slurred, blinking.

* * *

. . .

* * *

He smiled a bit wryly behind his cup as he watched her drag the two unfortunates out of the crowd by their ears.

This was slightly inconvenient, then again, it was entertaining. That would make up for his disappointment.

For now.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The party continued without disturbance, and after Doctor Ice Cream had treated the two, Fionna treated them with her own medicine. Gumball was standing behind her as they faced the two slightly drunken miscreants, not bothering in the slightest to conceal his amusement. 'Traitor' the vampire mouthed at the Prince. The Prince only smiled wider.

"Shake hands." Fionna told them. Marshall Lee frowned, well, squinted through a black eye, while the Flame King crossed his arms, half of his face bruised and slightly swelling, "'Scuse you?"

"You heard me, Marshall Lee." Fionna smiled a smile that was patient yet also indicating that this could quickly change, "Shake. Hands."

The two glared at each other, and shook, one's palm burning enough to blister skin, the other's claws digging in enough to puncture it.

"For real!" the heroine snapped, not ignoring this, making them jump, "You will do it like you _mean it!"_

It was with a lot of grumbling, snapping, and even a few knuckled heads that they finally shook in a way that was just within the bounds of genteel, if only because their hands were too tenderized by previous tries to do anything more. Fionna nodded firmly, glaring, "_Thank_ you." she said, as they both glared back at her.

Then she smiled, and all three men blinked, "Right. Now I'm gonna go hang with _Gumball_. Don't cause any more trouble."

Marshall Lee and Flame King gaped as Fionna promptly took Gumball by the arm to lead him back into the crowd.

The Prince looked over his shoulder at them, and smiled a benign lollipop smile that was every inch _smug_.

They stared, twin expressions of vengeance on their faces.

". . . Truce?" Flame King asked, as they glared at the Candy royal's back.

"Truce." Marshall Lee agreed.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball and Fionna were both quietly laughing as they sat at a table, and Fionna promptly faceplanted it, "_Aw_, _geez, their faces_..." she giggled into the woodwork.

Gumball smiled at her, leaning on his elbows, "You've never considered diplomacy, have you, Fionna?" he joked.

She shook her head, rubbing her face into the tabletop, "No-o-o..." she laughed nervously.

She peered up at him, "Are-are you mad?" she asked, worried. "I was kinda mean, and..."

His smile widened, and turned into an Un-Gumball grin, "No. Would you think less of me if I admit I'm enjoying this?"

It strangely pleased him when she blushed, hiding her face in the table again without answering. He couldn't help laughing again.

He peered down at her, his smile easing up a bit, "Perhaps you're ready for some more, ah, _polite_ company?"

She was about to shrug, stopped herself, and looked up at him, face tomato-red, "That's still okay?"

"It's _always_ okay." he told her, and watched her blink, a thoughtful look on her face. "I know it's hardly the time for business," he continued, "But when all of...when all of this is over, I do have a sort of...proposal, for you, concerning my Kingdom." The adventuress tilted her head, confused, and he looked at her, "Fionna, how would you feel about becoming my official drill instructor?"

She blinked, "Huh?"

"Say _what_?" they heard an invisible voice exclaim, right from behind Gumball. Gumball faceplanted the table, while Fionna still looked confused.

Then Gumball's chair caught on fire.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"It wa-as a _prank_," Flame King repeated, staring reproachfully at the ceiling, a new goose egg on his head to match the vampire's, courtesy of Fionna, "It was a prank made as a circumstantial 'bro', and not as an enemy. And we got the fire put out, didn't we? . . . You used to love my pranks."

"When I was in on them," Fionna pointed out, scowling, "And I was _talking _to him_._"

He rolled his eyes, and then looked at her, smirking, "You didn't mind the Kitchen Incident when the dear Prince was talking nonstop about his precious recipes, if I recall."

She couldn't help a laugh at the memory, and looked around the kitchen they were in now. Apparently Flame people used blue flames to soothe any wounds, and Igni had spent a bit of time bent over the stove with his face near the jet flame. ". . . That was...that was different..." she mumbled, shrugging.

He shrugged back, still smirking as he leaned against a stone counter, careful to not scorch anything, then he winced as his headache throbbed, "As you say."

There was silence between them, broken by the ticking of the clock and the clicking of the stove burners as they cooled down.

"I'm sorry." he told her, and she blinked at him, before she nodded, blushing at the floor, ". . . Me too."

He shifted uncomfortably as the silence started again, and then spoke up, "If...if I hadn't—oh, _shrap_—if I hadn't been such a—could we have—?"

"Don't," she interrupted quickly, looking straight at him, "Don't start that. I'm having a lot of 'what if's' too, Igni, but-but we're _here now. _But, gah, I can't avoid this can I?" She smiled wistfully at him, "I was kinda wondering if things might've gone better if I _had _said yes, y'know? If I said yes, none of this would'a..."

He straightened, seeing where her thoughts were going, "No." he told her, "No. No, no, no, _none_ of this is your fault, Fionna, it's... I wouldn't have wanted you to say yes if you thought you should because of my temp—..." He shut up, all kinds of conflicting thoughts tumbling around in his brain, and Fionna nodded gently, "It's a mess, isn't it?" she asked, and suddenly rubbed her forehead, her eye, "But...we were both stupid, right? We're both stupid. But we're getting to fix the stupid now, and I think that's...I think that's for the better..."

He looked at her, at the way she was rubbing one eye, then the other, though they looked dry, still.

"I leave tomorrow." he told her, and she nodded, "Yeah..."

"I need to work some things out before I set out again, so I'll be in the Fire Kingdom for some time..."

"Yeah... Will you be okay with your Mom?"

"Oh, no need to worry about that. I'll make a stronger lantern."

That made her giggle, a sort of hiccupping laugh that wrenched something in his chest.

"I...I will write, this time." he told her. "I mean, I can't use that—what is it called? The tree stuff?"

"Paper?"

"Paper, yes, but I'll...I'll improvise... Without, you know, setting important things on fire..."

She laughed again, nodding, "Thank you..."

His flames were fitful, and his cheekbones were a faint orange, "Fionna?"

She looked up as he carefully crossed the distance between the counter and the island, slow and cautious as he stared down at her. He was careful this time to keep his arms at his sides, careful to be just close enough to not crowd her, and watched her face flush in kind. He swallowed, leaning in, "Maybe if we could try, just to...?" he mumbled, and then felt faint pressure on his chest, and his flames stuttered and he quickly suppressed them to avoid burning her. He glanced down at his chest, where her little hand was slowly, gently pushing away. He let her push him away, seething, and felt the hurt frown pull at his forehead and his mouth, his face taut like his burning heart-guts.

He noticed she wasn't looking away, her face red and her expression sad, though a smile was ticcing at her mouth, "That'll hurt more than help, FK." she said sadly, "It's not...if I kiss and say 'no', we'll be all kinds of wrecked. If I kiss and say 'yes', that'll make all the shouting and fighting we did, all of the stupid stuff, it'll be like saying all that stuff was okay. And either yes or no we might...we might regret it, or keep thinking about all those stupid 'what if's' and..." "And you don't want that for a love story, for our love story, yes...?" he muttered, and slowly dragged her hand over his bare skin to over the place he felt his heart thump in his chest.

She swallowed, and took her hand away, and he let her, staring at her. She wasn't looking away. "Yeah." she mumbled.

He took a breath, and sighed, backing off properly, palms up and shrugging, "I understand."

She nodded, but straightened away from the counter, and then surprised him by spreading her arms, open, a hesitant smile on her face.

"Peace-friends?" she asked, looking so vulnerable. He felt himself swallow, like something was stuck in his throat.

He laughed, feeling it catch, "Peace-friends." he replied, giving up.

He took her offer of a hug, embracing her, and felt her arms wrap around him without clawing him. He was careful, and was surprised that for such a cool being, for such an elemental, that she was soft, and in her way, warm, and seemed so small. He bit his lip, hands nearly tensing into the fabric of her shirt, and felt her breath on his shoulder. For her, it was like she was surrounded by warm air and pressure, dry and comfortable, and it felt so freaking safe that she nearly broke down right there. But no, not now, just enjoy it...

"I'll become someone you'll be proud of, princess, you'll see..." he muttered defiantly.

He felt her laugh, and a strong fist thumped lightly on his back, "You already are, stupid."

They both mutually left the hug, blushing and not meeting each other's eyes.

"I-I'll see you off tomorrow," she stammered, "And give you my mail address on a rock or something so you can send me a letter because Cake says the guy always writes first and—" He pressed his face against her cheek, cutting her off, and she felt the brief, warm, dry pressure against her cheek that made the skin there tingle and heat up.

"Thank you, Fionna." he mumbled against her skin, and backed off, backing to the door. "I've, um, I'm not running but I have...things..."

She waved, dumbly, and he waved back, smiling awkwardly, before he ran up the stairs to the main halls, leaving a trail of flaming footsteps.

She slumped against the counter, fingers absently brushing against her tingling face. The place suddenly felt wet. She traced the wetness up to her eyes, and laughed nervously, a laugh that caught in her throat and came out as a reluctant sob. That tightness that had been choking her throat for _weeks _was suddenly gone, and it had apparently blocked up a lot of junk while it had been there. She let herself cry, then, the quiet whimpers echoing pitifully in the kitchen, flushing her face, tears making everything sticky and salty-tasting as she let the hurt out. It was full, uncontrollable sobbing that was messy, gross, and would have embarrassed her if she didn't hurt so freaking much. Every now and then she'd stop, sniffling, only to be attacked by a fresh wave of crying.

Eventually she calmed down, quietly hiccupping as she caught her breath, breathing in and out slowly, shakily, wiping off her eyes with sticky hands. She'd ended up sitting on the floor, against the cabinet, her butt and spine hurting from the hard, stone surfaces. She stood up and went to the sink to wash up, the cool water soothing her stinging eyes and cleansing her skin, and when she straightened up and waited, thinking, the tightness in her throat didn't come back. It was over.

She made a face at her reflection on one of the shiny pans. Puffy, squinty eyes, flushed skin, stuffy nose, and her mouth tasted horrible. She washed herself again, drinking some of the water, and sighed. The best thing to do now would be to just move on. No regrets, no 'what if's'. Just acceptance, and peace, and a few more face-washings.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I said I was _sorry, _man!" Marshall whined, and got a faceful of jean pants for his effort. The pants in question had a significantly burned hole in the seat of them, and smelled like charred denim. "See if I make you that hangover cure," was the snap from the closet, "I've lost not only my dignity but my favorite pair of pants. Thank you _ever_ so much!"

"Can just patch 'em or something..." the vampire grumbled, tossing them aside, and then leered, "To be fair, though..."

"What?"

Marshall Lee chuckled, "This isn't the first time you lost your dignity or your pants...around _me_..."

This time he got a pretty dang accurate faceful of the complete Knitting and Acupuncture Enthusiast's Kit, sans protective casing.

* * *

Later, after Marshall had picked the needles out of his face and felt less like a pincushion, they talked.

"So, what, you guys are pen pals now?"

"We'll keep correspondence." Gumball replied, "One of his conditions was that I would be a sort of advisor to him, if you remember."

"Remember what? I wasn't there." Marshall Lee asked, eyes innocently confused.

The Candy Prince shook his head, exasperated. "Would you, hypothetically, have any objections to his other conditions?"

"Hypothetically, not really." the vampire grunted, "It was between you and him and politics. I'm surprised he didn't even mention Fio."

"He's learned," Gumball explained, "That matters of politics don't involve matters of the heart. Or at least, I'd _hoped_ he had."

"Nah, nah, that was strictly bro-stuff. Politics had nothin' to do with it!" he chuckled.

"Indeed." Gumball sniffed, still disapproving.

"Oh, c'mon, don't tell me you didn't want a punch or two in?!"

Gumball looked at him, and smirked, eyebrow raised, "I prefer to...delegate..."

Marshall Lee blinked, and then gaped, "Wait so you _expected_ me to—?! So you and Fio—?! Oh, you _sneaky _li'l—!"

"Well thanks to you two's sudden camaraderie, my plans had been foiled most hilariously." the Candy Prince smoothed over, "I hope you're happy." "Oh-ho-_ho _no," the vampire protested, as they left again, fully-dressed, to return to the festivities, "You plan! How did I—how did you even...?" Gumball smirked, shoving him gently with his shoulder to drift a little, "You don't know everything about me..." he chuckled, and left Marshall there with the most dumbstruck look on his face.

". . . Evil!"


	37. Sorry

She didn't even get a chance to get something from the snack table before he caught up with her. He appeared at her shoulder, grinning, before turning her around. "You. Me. Dance." he said simply, taking her hand and then her waist before flying them up, supporting her feet with his own. "Marshall, the stuff?!" she protested, hand gripping his own hand hard, digging her fingers into his shoulder. "I wanna eat, dangit!" "And I wanna dance." he replied, and she glared, loosening her grip a little, "If you weren't holding me up I'd so give you another one upside the head right now." she told him instead, scowling, and he smirked, showing he was missing a tooth, but she could see a new one growing in, "Promises, promises."

She huffed, looking at the crowd below them, at the lights from the lanterns and the Flame people themselves. From here she couldn't tell which one was the King. "Aw, cheer _up_, Fio!" Marshall Lee laughed, spinning them around in vague, wandering circles, just slightly in time to the music that drifted up from below, "You dance great. Real light on your feet."

"I'm not even _on_ my feet, doofus." Fionna grumbled, and he rolled his eyes. "Same difference. So, what, it's suddenly not okay to dance with me?" he asked. "Seemed like you were doing pretty fine earlier. Y'know," he spun quickly, making her hang on with a squeak, "With dancing..." "B-before I had to deal with you and your stupid..." she told him, fingers clenching in again. "And you know you stole my freaking dance partner. And beat him up."

He smirked, yanking her closer, "_Borrowed_. I was gonna give him back... Bu-ut I thought that most girls wouldn't mind seein' a little dogfight... Admit it, you liked it."

"Don't even start that, Marsh," she snapped, but he saw a bit of blush, "Can we just stop, please? I'm really not a good dancer."

He snorted, floating higher and making her whine in protest, "You're fi-ine, Fifi." he chuckled.

"No, really," she protested, straining to see the ground, "With FK it was just awkward stepping around and with GB he was just good enough to avoid my feet."

"And with ML?" he purred, and she glared, "I'm not even _doing_ anything here!" she spluttered.

"As far as _you_ know. Just follow my lead." he continued bluntly, grinning, and got it across in a way that gave her enough blush to shut her up for the moment.

In the quiet the music slowed a bit, and so did Marshall, turning it into more of a swaying as they drifted. He pulled her a bit closer, and she pulled back just the little bit that his grip allowed, frowning at him. He ignored her, leaning in and inhaling through his nose. ". . . He made you cry." he stated simply, watching her flush. He cut off her protests with a squeeze to the hand, a sneer, "Don't freaking lie to me, Fionna. I can smell the salt, and your face is that shiny shade of red from _scrubbing_..." He was already looking over the crowd, red irises glowing, "Alright, where is he?"

"Quit it, Marshall." she snapped, her hand on his shoulder pushing his cheek to face her, pinching his cheek when he tried to avoid her, and she glared at him.

"No more stupid."

When he only stared at her, she grit her teeth, "Look, Marshall Lee," she told him, "It was between me and FK, not me, him, and you, and now it's _over_, alright? You happy? It's freaking over, everything's cool, and I did _not _cry because of him. So if you start something again Glob help me I won't be your friend anymore."

That raised the vampire's eyebrows, "Seriously, huh?"

"Yup." she said blankly, and didn't say any more as she let him dance her around.

". . . You still cried." he said again, bluntly.

"You—! We-well now I'm not, dangit." she retorted, this time blushing in what looked like shame, "And why do _you_ care, anyway? You didn't that one time."

He shrugged, getting his grin back, "I took pity on ya. And to be fair you made me pay for it." Then he leaned in much closer, and Fionna grunted when his face was near her cheek, "And only I get to make you cry..." he told her, near where her ear would be, and he heard her heart skyrocket. And then he felt pain. Simple, basic, painful pain. He was very, very careful to not let her go as he cringed, wheezing, feeling his solar plexus try and choke him from the girl's punch, "_Ohhhhglobwhatiswithyouandthehitting_?" he groaned.

"Serves you right, you freak." she growled, though her face was aflame, "Down now."

"_So_ not cute..." he hissed, straightening, but waited. "Why'd you cry?" he asked.

"Drop it, Marshall." she told him, "And put me down."

"C'mo-o-on, tell your friend..." he whined, floating higher. She glared, "_Marshall_ _Lee..._"

"Tell me." he repeated.

"No."

"Tell me."

"Mar_shall_."

"Tell me-e-e..."

"I said no!"

"Tell m—"

_"Bite me!"_ she snapped in his face, and then her mouth fell open as his snapped shut.

They stared at each other with wide eyes, and the Fionna started stammering while he laughed, "D-didn't mean it like that I mean I—"

"Gee, Fionna, I like the offer but—"

"—didn't mean it like _that! _Aargh, why do you have t' be a freaking bug?! Every single time I do something stupid it's—"

"—I mean, I dunno, with all the _people_ here?"

"—your freaking fault! I didn't mean that and you freaking _know_ it yet you always—"

"I really didn't know you were into that kinda thing, but I'm a nice guy, and—"

"—go and make me feel like an idiot and—!"

"—I really wouldn't mind taking the next step in the relationship."

That shut her up.

Steam was practically coming out of her ears as he smirked, and she gritted her teeth, "Put. Me. Down. Now."

He laughed in pain as her hand _clenched _into his shoulder, "Yeah, yeah, milady."

Then he dropped her.

The scream caught in her throat as she clenched his hand, then realized it was only a couple feet. Somehow he'd gotten closer to the ground.

"Y-you _jerk_!" she squawked, nearly crushing the bones in his hand, but he only chuckled.

He didn't let her hand go immediately, staring at her, "Really though, you're cool?" She opened her mouth, closed it, looked at him, and then her hand he still held in spite of its crushiness, and _finally_ smiled a bit, "I'll be okay, thanks. Just...just stop joking with me, okay?"

He blinked, and then grinned again, pulling her hand to get close again, "It wasn't _all_ a joke, Fio." he told her, then flew off, smirking, "Peace!"

Fionna stared, then shook her head, feeling the biggest want to hit the punch bowl. Maybe drink from it, too. ". . . Jerk." she mumbled.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"'Course she'd take it as a joke..." he grumbled to himself. "Lame..."

Maybe he should go find his li'l punching bag again. Then he felt his jaw, and the loose teeth, and Fionna's possibly serious 'un-friending'.

Nah, not worth it.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The Flame King watched from a crowd of his subjects, as the vampire finally let her go. He watched her, as she finally found herself something to eat, and considered going to her again, maybe dance again, but...no... He knew now that he really didn't have a chance, and should not delude himself or torture her to try and convince himself that he did. Envy crackled uncomfortably in his gut, and he suppressed it in favor of acceptance. She was..._comfortable_ with them... More than she ever was with him. She probably didn't realize it herself, but it was easy for her to touch them, or be near them, even if it was to hurt them or even something so casual as a pat on the shoulder. And that was how friends were, he realized. They were indeed her friends. He snorted, feeling some satisfaction that it would be difficult for them to even reach her with the perverse intentions they sought, not without preserving that natural affection she showed, that friendship. He'd have time. He'd go, and grow, and enjoy his own 'friendship' with her, and hopefully have something good to show her that she could accept. For now, he could accept his defeat with grace, while looking towards a small hope in the future. And if that hope was nothing more than something from his mind? Well, even if there was that stupid possibility of her accepting two lovers, he'd happily prepare to be there to comfort her when such a relationship failed. He snickered into his drink, imagining the struggles his rivals would have. Perhaps there was something to be said for being a spectator. He'd already had a place in her heart, he supposed. A defined place that said '_she loved him_'. He'd like to see them try and compete with _that_. He continued with the party, a genuine smile on his face that bordered towards a smirk. He might not have been able to defeat them, no, but his place in her heart sure wouldn't be making it an easy path. Hah.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The next day the Flames had formed a sort of caravan on the way out, and the King was the one who was leaving last, along with his little lion pride. A crowd of Candy people had tagged along to wave goodbye, which for some reason involved cheering and confetti, but no one really questioned it. The Flames liked to set the confetti on fire.

Cake glanced at her sister as they waved the Flames goodbye, but Fionna was smiling, looking fine, and the only thing she and Flame King had exchanged was a handshake and a rock for some reason. Well, they looked like they were cool, and Cake could ask more about that stuff later. Suddenly fang face started rapping, and they all saw the Flame King's shoulders tense up.

"_Oh-oh, oh-oh,_

_It's such a pity that ya kiddies gotta go,_

_And that's fine,_

_But I just wanted ya to know_

_That it was great,_

_Hah, no, really, I'm not kidding,_

_First rate,_

_Got the memories an' the bruises here to show._

_Oh-oh, oh-oh,_

_No hard feelings, no bad vibes, oh, no,_

_Just saying 'hope you have a nice life', now,_

_And things like 'don't let the gate hit ya on the way out'._

_And, y'know, watch your back, if ya know what I'm about...?_

_But really, I hate to see ya go._

_'Cause you're really gonna miss out on a show._

_Peace out!_"

A jet of flame nearly singed the Vampire King, but he dodged it, laughing, "Didn't know you cared, Hotpants!"

Fionna and Gumball simultaneously shook their heads as Marshall Lee continued to go out of his way to hound the caravan. "He'll get bored soon enough." Gumball decided, "Or maybe they'll fry him." she thought aloud. "That was enriching!" Peppermint Maid spoke up happily, and they both looked at her. She grinned at Fionna, "All things are forgiven, Human. I had a betting pool going on that fight last night, and I'd bet on you. Well done!" she patted Fionna generously on the elbow, and then curtsied to the Prince, "If His Highness will excuse me, I have some 'in your face time' to attend to."

They watched as she went back into the crowd, starting to screech, "_Wasn't I right, ya suckers?! EAT IT!_"

". . . Thank you?" Fionna mumbled uncertainly.

"I should look into her vacation time." the Candy Prince said uneasily. Then he glanced down at her. "Tonight?"

Fionna paused, and swallowed, knowing what he was talking about. ". . . Okay." she sighed.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The silence was uncomfortable, and extremely awkward to breach. They three sat quietly in Gumball's study. Well, two of them sat, while Marshall just sort of floated there, picking erratically at his Axe. Gumball took a sip from his cup even though the tea inside had long gone cold. Cake and Monochromicorn weren't present for Casual Tea this time, what with the unicorn and the cat finally having time to themselves after the repair work was more or less finished. Gumball was in parts grateful and frustrated. This was the first time to his memory that they were all three there together for the main intent to 'hang out', and yet they still had to get over business first.

Marshall Lee broke the silence first with a flat _twang_, "Alright, this is stupid." he said, as the others looked up at him, and he glared at Fionna, "GB told ya to stay away."

"And _that_ was stupid!" the human shouted back, finding it easier to shout at the vampire than Gumball. Familiarity, the Prince supposed, "How the hack could you guys expect me to do that?!"

"It was dangerous," Gumball interjected, "And like it or not you would have been the most vulnerable, Fionna, and so we didn't want to involve you."

"I would've been fine," she protested, "I would've gotten to him."

"And let him get at your face again, right?" Marshall snarled, and Fionna shut up as Gumball glared at the vampire. "That's...that's different." she growled.

"That's being a freaking hypocrite, babe." he scoffed.

"Do stop it already!" Gumball said quickly before they could get at each other, and turned to Fionna, "And we're not going to bring that up. It was in the past, and he's sufficiently apologized, I hope?" Fionna nodded as the vampire sneered, and the Prince continued, "But I had hoped things would go differently. I had asked you to stay away, Fionna, yet you immediately charge in with the _Ice Queen_ of all people," he wasn't frowning, but his face was stern, and blank, "I didn't want nor need your heroics, Fionna. I thought you would understand, or at least try to trust me..."

". . . You were puking your guts out, man," she told him, "And Marshall was nearly getting eaten, or-or burned or whatever and everything was freaking _on_ **_fire_**. Charred, smoking, charcoal-barbecue pit from heck on _fire_. Yeah, I was probably stupid and—" "_Probably_?" Marshall interrupted, and got a cake to the face, "—and I know how you guys were feeling and I'm _sorry_ that I did the stuff I did to get there and I'm _sorry _that I made you guys worry and angry, _but_," she continued, "I'm not sorry that I was there. I just...I-I just wasn't trying to be a stupid _hero_, okay?"

Marshall Lee glared after he wiped the pastry off his face, "You played the hero anyway. So that doesn't make any sense." he muttered.

"I don't care. I said it wasn't about the stupid heroics," she repeated, frustrated, "No. No wait, that's not right. I-I went there because _I _wanted to, right? Not for you guys, not for him, not for my stupid code. I didn't want you guys to-to _die _or fry or something, I didn't care about how you felt, so I went there for _me_, not you guys. Better?"

There was a moment of quiet as they all turned over her words, as Fionna kept cursing to herself to not being able to put it better.

". . . That might've been the sweetest thing you've ever said." Marshall Lee chuckled as she flushed and looked away.

"Selfish way of twisting the situation," Gumball commented, and watched her cringe with guilt, "But acceptable logic." he continued, letting her have an out.

"We accept your apology."

"We do?" Marshall asked, and this time got a napkin soaked with tea to the face, "Gak! Hey!"

"As long as we have an understanding, of course." Gumball went on, smiling as Fionna stared at him with an almost expectant look on her face. He smirked, and she frowned, and then he laughed, unable to keep it up, "And yes, I am sorry that you have to rescue me so much." Then the napkin got thrown back in his face with a wet smack, and he flailed at the gross feeling of damp fabric, "Gah!"

"Hey, hey, I'm in the room, too," Marshall protested, as Gumball tried to dry himself, and the vampire leered at Fionna, "I'm sorry that you're nosy."

"I'm sorry that you're a jerk." she retorted easily, and immediately the old routines came back.

"Pfft. I'm sorry that you're such a _girl_."

Gumball rolled his eyes as he left to fetch things to clean up the mess. Honestly. He could still hear them, even from the small bathroom.

"I'm sorry that...that you had to get your butt _saved_ by a girl!"

"Ya freakin'—! Well I'm sorry you're a glory hog!"

"What?! Well I'm sorry you were getting your butt kicked!"

"I'm sorry you had to go run to _Queenie_ for help!"

He couldn't help a chuckle, even as he grimaced at the stickiness of the tea on his skin.

"Alright, alright, that's enough you—..." he came back to find they'd been throwing things at each other. Like the food he'd carefully made.

They both looked at him, and at his expression.

". . . Sorry." they both said at once, wincing simultaneously.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Drill instructor?" Fionna asked hesitantly, after things had been cleaned up and reset. However, Gumball had cut off the snacks. The Prince blinked at her before remembering, "Ah, yes." Marshall Lee perked up in interest, gnawing on the glossy grey remains of a once red hard candy. "It's for a project I have in mind." he continued, smiling. "My guards serve their purpose, yes, but only for guarding, defense, things like that, and the Guardians are...well...an 'independent' force, and therefore unreliable." He studied his tea dregs a bit morosely. He'd hoped they'd be able to relax this evening, but he really wanted to get this off his chest, "My Kingdom was defenseless, my guards insufficient and my people unprotected. I don't want such a situation to arise again, where I might have to defend it only to, yes, puke my guts out and fail. This is a historical, long-tolerated weakness that I don't want to suffer anymore." He smiled at Fionna, "I want to create a competent militaristic force for my Kingdom, and you can help me with that, Fionna." He blinked as he was stared at by his peers.

"Ya want me to train some guys to fight?" Fionna said carefully, and he nodded. "Or more like, teach them how." he corrected, "I've, well, watched you—_oh do be quiet, Marshall_—I've watched you fight, and it's very adaptable, aggressive. Efficient. It's not a set style, it's just...improvisation. I first want you to teach them how to get that 'fighting spirit', and then how to use it according to the situation. Like you." "Them?" she repeated. He blinked, "You didn't think I just wanted my guards trained, do you?" he smiled, slightly excited, holding up his hands, "Two words: Civilian. Military."

They were staring at him again.

". . . Le-... Let me think about it." she said uncertainly, and Gumball blinked, but nodded, "Of course, take your time."

"How much caffeine's in that tea, GB?" Marshall Lee asked bluntly.

"None. It's a non-caffeinated blend. Why?"

". . . Eh, nothin'."

"We're all good?" Fionna asked.

When everyone felt resolved, she nodded, getting up, "Okay. I'll get back to you on your thing, GB, after I think. Goodnight, guys."

"Goodnight." they chorused back, and she smiled, before leaving.

". . . Was it too much?" Gumball asked worriedly, and Marshall Lee rolled his eyes, "Don't worry about it, Gummy." he chuckled.

"But I don't want her to feel pressured to—"

"I said don't worry," he interrupted, "You mean well, and she knows that. I think she'll do it for you, because it's you who's asking."

". . . That doesn't make me feel any better." the Prince groaned, and Marshall Lee cackled, "I know. Still, you wanna test it? I know a few questions _I_ wouldn't mind asking her." Instead of spluttering or blushing or anything, Marshall Lee was surprised when the guy went quiet.

". . . Actually..." Gumball muttered, straightening up. Then he blinked, and Marshall watched as he went to his desk and got out that stupidly pink file, flipping through it and muttering to himself, "Major obstacles...something to be a catalyst...current psychological condition...mindset?...optimal...would be odd, but..."

He quieted down as Marshall floated over.

"Huh." Gumball stated.

"Hmm?" Marshall Lee hummed into his ear.

"We're making progress, I think." Gumball said. "Good progress."

"_Tell me_." the vampire said, suddenly appearing in front of his face. Gumball yelped, and papers went flying as he stumbled back into his chair in surprise. "W-well..." he stammered, as Marshall watched, waited, and listened very, very patiently, "Pretty soon, if this goes how I think it will, we'll have an...an opening..."

"I'm _listening_..." Marshall Lee sang, and Gumball swallowed, "I...I think it will go something like this..."

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Hello, there! First, I'm deeply sorry that this has dragged out for as long as it had. I've recently been back in school, so a lot of my writing has been moved to the back burner, so to speak. I will do my best to keep a regular updating schedule, but at times it can't be high on my priorities. If you have any questions on the updates or the story itself that you'd like to ask me, but that you don't want to put in the reviews, please, feel free to PM me, and I'll get back to you. I like to be able to communicate with my readers, and I feel that mutual feedback is important. Reviews, though, are always appreciated. Expect the next chapter shortly! Keep calm, and carry coffee. Thank you!_

_Sincerely, the hatchling_


	38. Bully Me

Fionna was currently face-planting the table while Cake did something with a ball of yarn. It had been a long, stressful day.

"I'm a despicable human being." Fionna mumbled.

"Mmhm." Cake said patiently, a tangled mess of yarn weaving between her paws.

"I don't know what I'm doing, hack, I don't know how to _teach_ stuff..."

"I hear ya."

"It's like, I tell stories about things I fought and they looked freaked out and then I tried to tell 'em how to do it themselves like maybe fight me or each other or the guards or something and they all just started crying!"

Cake grumbled, waving a paw quickly to get it out of a loop.

"It's like the Cuties all over again, but sort of like opposite!"

Something that looked like a guitar made of strings appeared between Cake's paws, before she glared at it and shook it loose again.

"And it was just the first day! We hadn't even done anything yet!" Fionna looked up to see Cake trussed up like a bright pink yarn mummy, blinking at her, "I've never done this kind of stuff before, Cake! And I'm afraid to come off like a bully or let GB down and I..." she face-planted the table again, rubbing her face over it while tugging at her hood's ears, "_Bwuuuhhh_..."

Fionna blinked at the wood grain of the table, "The Cuties...bullies..."

Her fists slammed the table, making Cake fall back in her tangling of yarn, "Woah, fluff?!"

"I've got it, Cake!" Fionna grinned, renewed, "I gotta go find Marshall! Oh, man, I—! Thank you!"

Cake blinked at the ceiling, but Fionna was already out the door, "She gotta do what now?"

Then she remembered the yarn, and rolled in it, giggling, "Heh-heh, yarn, you're so awesome..." she clutched a wad of it to her chest, eyes narrowing, "You're the only stuff that makes any sense lately."

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall Lee stared down at the adorable human as she waited for his answer. He blinked, "You need me to what now?" he asked slowly, certain he had misheard.

"I need you to bully me, Marshall." she repeated, getting slightly impatient, "I mean, well, more than usual."

. . . Okay, he was probably getting his hopes up, but this was too good to pass up. A lazy smirk slid on his face as he floated around her, "That's a pretty funny thing to ask for right there, Fifi," he chuckled, moving around too quickly for her to get a bead on him. She came to his cave, they played by his rules. "Kinda hurts my feelings, really. You mean all the stuff I've done wasn't good enough for you?" he pouted.

"This is serious," she protested, whirling around, getting slightly edgy when she tried to focus on him, "It'll help me out, so could you just—stay _still, _dangit!"

He laughed aloud, this was too freaking precious, "C'mon, tell me _exa~actly_ how you need me to bully you, Fionna..." he purred, and snuck up until he was just over her shoulder, "Want me to make you cry again...?" he whispered, tongue flicking out to make her flinch.

It was so worth it, even when she used his tongue to drag him to the ground.

"Othay, othay, Ah giff, sthoffit!" he gagged out, arms flailing. He coughed, laughing when she quickly let go to wipe off her hand, and he made a point to lick his lips when she looked back at him.

She shuddered, making a face, but Marshall could see some blush there. "Alright, alright," he laughed, floating back on the air, "What's the haps?"

"You know what Gumball needs me to do, right?" she asked, and he nodded, "Yup, kick the cavities into combat mode." he said drily.

"Right! I...I don't want him to know, but I'm kind of having some trouble with it, but I have an idea, really! Now, remember that time when we had to get Cake off your case about the whole evil minion thing?" "Ahh, fond memories of pretending to be _dead-_dead and ending up stuffed in your backpack." he sighed fondly, faking a look of reminiscing bliss.

She rolled her eyes, "Anyway, I got another plan sort of like that."

"A good one?"

She glared.

He laughed, "I kid, I kid, alright, fill me in..."

* * *

. . .

* * *

"She didn't want me to know?!"

Marshall chuckled hopelessly, the Prince's distraught face looked hilarious.

"She didn't want me to know?!" Gumball repeated, eyes wide, "I-I could've—she shouldn't have to if she doesn't—it's—I never intended to—!"

"Chill, man!" Marshall Lee laughed, "This is a _good_ thing."

He made him focus on him, smirking, "Our little Fionna's going out of her way to want to _please _ya..." he purred, and watched that pink flush with red, and he went on, "It'd be an awful thing of you to try and take that chance away from her, hmm? Besides, she's got me in on it with her, what could happen?"

Gumball stared, ". . . I was starting to feel reassured until you added that last sentence." he said flatly.

Marshall Lee laughed.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I like to travel a lot, usually into places like this." the Human mentioned a few days later to the group of Candy people who followed her. They looked frazzled and tired as they scanned the dark, spooky-looking edge of the forest, slightly huddling together. The Human did this kind of stuff for _fun?!_

". . . I wanna go home."

"I'm itchy, aren't there diseases out here? I'm, like, really itchy."

"The ground is icky!"

"Th-this is scary."

"I mean, does this rash look infected to you? Can I call in sick?"

"You guys won't have to go in there, really." she assured them, looking strained, "But there are all kinds of stuff in the forest, and not all of it is cool. Sometimes they don't stay in the forest, either, so everyone's gonna have to know what they're dealing with, like—" there was little more warning than a rustle before a piece of the darkness exploded on the Human, and everyone shrieked. "AAAARGH!" the Human yelled, as the giant hairy wolf-like thing with red eyes and slavering teeth attacked her. The Candy people watched in horror as the monster swatted around their Human, she barely dodging its ugly, vicious claws. "OH GLOB, A MONSTER! NO! AAAARRRRGH!" she yelled as it grabbed her, and then one good swipe sent her flying. The Candy people gasped as she rolled to a stop near them, grunting and holding her side. The monster roared, almost looking like it grinned as it turned to face the Candy people, who squeaked in unison.

Now, the Candy people were usually what was known as a herd mind, or hive mind. What one generally thought, the rest did as well, and right now they were all pretty sure they were going to die, without their Human to save them. They shook as the monster leered, the waterworks already threatening to spill from their dark little eyes. Fortunately, more fortunately than anyone knew, some were not always of the herd mind. One person stumbled out of the crowd towards the Human to stand between her and the monster. Cherry glared, even as she felt like crying, "L-l-leave us alone, m-monster!" she squeaked, and heard the Human crouch behind her. "Look at it!" the Human choked out to her, "All of you look at it, how big is it? What's it doing? What's it not doing? What can you do to it? T-tactics! Oh, Glob, I can't move...! R-remember the..._tactics_..." Cherry gasped as the Human keeled over, clutching her stomach in pain. The little Candy person trembled as she faced the monster again, forcing herself to look. She blinked, and quickly toddled back to the crowd, who were already sobbing, "Wait! It's not moving!" she told them, pointing.

They all looked and, indeed, the monster seemed to not be able to move beyond the shadow! They reluctantly cheered, they could just stay in the sunlight and be safe! They went to the Human to try and maybe take her back to the Kingdom to fix her, when the monster roared. They shrieked, darting away from the Human as the monster pounced at her, smoke rising from its fur. The Human yelled as it grabbed her up, holding her over its head as it darted back into the shadow. "**I will take your precious Human from you, little snacks!**" it ground out, chuckling, "**And there is nothing you can do to stop me!**"

Cherry gaped as her friends started crying again, staring at the Human as she struggled in the monster's hand, "Help me!" the Human called out, and the people cringed, torn between fear and guilt. Cherry was crying, too, but bit her lip, and glared, "G-give her baaack!" she screamed, charging at its feet, and with little else to work with, she bit it on its big, furry, nasty-tasting ankle. She squealed as it began kicking its foot around, but Cherry had jawbreaker in her family, and clamped down tight with her jaws as it roared, not wanting to know what would happen if she let go, "**Get off, pest! OW!**"  
The crowd of Candy people were shocked quiet before one finally piped up, astonished.

"Ch-Cherry's attacking!"

"She's hurting it!"

"Ooh, sunlight hurts it, too!"

"Let's get it into the sunlight, get the feet!"

"I don't wanna get the feet!"

"It's gonna hurt!"

"We'll hurt it more! _Cherry's_ doing it! Save Cherry! Save the Human!"

"Save Cherry! Save the Human!"

"Save Cherry! Save the Human!"

They chanted as they swarmed the monster's feet, feeling reassured by their numbers as they crowded behind it, kicking and biting and hitting what they could to try and herd it out of the shadow, determination rising, fueled by panic and that innate need to not want to find out what would happen if they dare stopped. The monster jumped, dancing around like it'd stepped on a bug nest, snarling and growling and cursing as they hounded it, and there was a brief, collective cheer as they began to see it smoke. It let out a howl as a few of them managed to trip it, falling on its back, smoking and writhing, and one person shrieked "Get it while it's down!" and in the frenzy of the moment they did, climbing over it and stomping up and down, some even cackling. With a final roar the monster collapsed, its putrid body hissing back into syrupy shadow that disappeared under their feet. They waited in the silence, broken by bird chirps and their panting. They then cheered, high-fiving each other and crying happily while the stompers were scraping shadowy goo off their feet and the biters were spitting it out of their mouths.

"Wait, where's the Human?!"

They murmured quickly, searching, and found her curled against a nearby boulder, smiling wearily at them.

"How do you feel?" she asked, as Cherry came forward, wide-eyed, a chunk of fur still stuck in the corner of her mouth.

Cherry breathed in, and out, eyes wide and glistening, and then she grinned, "I feel... I-I feel..." she screamed at the sky, "I FEEL _ALIIIIIVE_!"

* * *

. . .

* * *

It was a triumphant party that was somehow not a party that trooped back into the Candy Kingdom that day. Citizens covered in some strange, smelly black goo were grinning like they'd drunk entire bottles of Sol Soda. Stories were told, glories were taken, and people began to think that the soldiering thing might not have been such a bad idea... In later times it would be decided that the collective soldiering citizenship would be known as the Fionnas. But the particular group who had defeated the first monster would later become privately nicknamed the Cherry Breakers...

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna sat back in satisfaction, taking a break from training. They found their fighting spirit, and were spreading it around, and that would help a lot more later.

"Thanks for going easy on them." she said idly, and the air next to her chuckled, "Any time, babe. Always happy to help a damsel in distress... You play the part well..."

She flushed, "Quiet, you..." she muttered, watching the Candy people recruits wrestle with each other and discuss the 'fighting game'. "It's still gonna take some work, I think, but that was good. In fact, I think you might be able to help them more, t—" she broke off as a particular Candy person separated herself from the crowd. Cherry grinned, her mouth surprisingly wide for her round little body, and Fionna thought she heard the air mutter 'that one has _teeth_' before the citizen spoke up, "When I can fight more, better, can I be like you, Human?"

Fionna blinked, and conflicting stuff smashed through her brain, "But I lost..." she pointed out nervously, and Cherry shook her head, "You would'a gotten better," she replied, giving a sweeter smile, "You're good at that. You help this place a lot, and now I want to, too. I like that 'alive' feeling."

"D'aww..." the air said snidely, and Fionna elbowed the air behind her quickly without looking around, and ignored the sound of choking. "Th-that's great!" Fionna stammered, smiling as Cherry continued to stare at her, "I..." Fionna sighed, settling, "That's great... Heck, I can't tell you what you want to do. Um," Crap, Gumball hadn't told her what to do in this case. "I think..." she thought about it, and smiled, "I do think you can."

Cherry nodded, that not-so-sweet grin back on her face, "Thank you, Human! I will train well!"

She tumbled back into the fray with renewed vigor, her very stem looking stiff with determination.

". . . Fionna's got a groupie! Fionna's got a groupie!" Marshall Lee chanted, chuckling as Fionna blushed again.

"I wonder what Candy Kingdom will be like if this actually works..." she wondered after a while.

Marshall Lee shrugged, grinning, "It'll be a better place to hang around, for sure," he decided, "More fun to freak it out if the toys can actually fight back."

Fionna snorted, but still looked all broody, and Marshall elbowed her, "C'mon, Fionna, change happens, enjoy it!"

She couldn't help a laugh when he changed his face to prove his point, shaking her head, "Yeah..."

Change...

She looked at the Candy people, who were more play fighting than actually fighting, and tried to imagine them as soldiers. Perhaps little Cherry would be a general or something, and she bit back a laugh at the thought of the Candy person's stem piercing through a little general's hat. A lot of things were changing, she noticed. The Ice Queen's stuff, Gumball's ideas... She glanced at Marshall Lee, who was currently laid back some five feet off the ground, strumming on his guitar as usual. He _looked_ the same as he always did, but he seemed to be a lot easier to hang with lately, not quite different, but not quite the same either, and Fionna wasn't sure how... Fionna looked down at herself, thinking. . . No. Not now. She'd have more time for thinking later: she felt the thought that she would think about would be pretty big. For the moment, she went to find Gumball to talk more about the army thing. Maybe she'd ask him about Marshall Lee's part in it...


	39. Instar

The next week and the days following were different for everyone. Marshall Lee, due to his Kingship, couldn't be officially instated as an instructor or take part in the Candy Kingdom's budding military in any definite status, as it would make him politically subservient to Gumball. Gumball managed to get around this by making him Fionna's combat consultant, and the inofficial 'monster test' for the army, both of which were positions the vampire enjoyed and at times took advantage of. Marshall was a surprisingly good strategist in combat, a field that Prince Gumball was admitting to be slightly ignorant of in the later stages. It made sense, given that the vampire composed and directed undead armies, a talent which was also used to advantage of training the Candy army. That did not necessarily mean that he played well with others. Fortunately, the heroine somehow managed to keep him in decent check.

Fionna was surprising them.

She'd taken a lot more of an invested interest in the army than Gumball had anticipated. She still kept it adventurous and fun, as Fionna would, but Cake told Monochromicorn, who she made sure would tell Gumball, that Fionna was actually studying ahead for lessons to use, training more, thinking up new ideas and writing—well, writing well enough for Fionna—accounts of what she'd done in the past, becoming more self-analyzing, and sometimes spending late nights doing this. She'd often test herself on Marshall—or test him, he wasn't sure now—and a lot of their discussions lately, even during their hanging out time, had been about the army, and not how they liked or disliked it, but how they could make it better. It had become a sort of blood-brother camaraderie that Marshall Lee at times enjoyed or disdained. But she was willingly spending time with him, talking to him, sharing with him, and in a way focusing on him, which is all he wanted to care about at the moment.

She was making sure to keep updated with Gumball, as well, keeping him updated on progress, asking for his advice, even asking him for 'profiles' of citizens to help her understand and teach them. She was communicating and progressing, showing a much more serious side of herself that he hadn't remembered seeing before. No, he'd seen it before, this determination, but usually in the heat of battle, brief and fierce in the midst of trial. The Prince was understandably impressed, and pleased, but also slightly worried. What sort of trial was she facing now, to have this much determination?

But in the glow and rush of growth he put his worries as second priority. The Candy people had come to love her, in their way, and that made him very happy. What had merely been their hero before, the one who helped their Prince or was entertaining to watch had become someone known around the Kingdom. Someone who would smile with them, talk with them, someone they could respect and admire, and still be their friend. This made him ridiculously pleased, almost like it was, in a way, his child accepting a familial addition, a metaphor which wasn't too far off the fact. Cherry had taken herself up to be Fionna's protegé, tagging along with her and Cake at times and taking part in their adventures.

Gumball remembered one day Cherry's request for a sword, which he'd granted, thinking at the time it had been for the army. But when Cherry wasn't focused on her training, she was becoming an adventurer. This had become official when she reported to Fionna, who had told Gumball with pride and some other strange emotion, that Cherry had slain her first monster and saved a village, by herself. This had started something new for the other Candy citizens. Some hunting parties would go out on their own adventures, making teams, goals, clubs, making all their requests known to the Prince, to still ask for his permission... Gumball, in haste, had asked Fionna to prepare these would-be adventurers to prevent casualties, still remembering his people's natural weaknesses, but in the name of progress, how could he refuse them? And, amazingly, there were never any casualties, yet there was so much change...

They still loved parties, of course, and were still slightly ignorant and naïve, still obedient and always sweet, but they weren't complete softness on the inside any more. Marshall Lee, so, had much more fun scaring them, wilfully inciting battle-themed riots when he felt like coming into the Kingdom. But strangely, the Kingdom was accepting him too, as a sort of 'frienemy rival', both for Fionna's time, and for their Prince's, and for their strength, as a sort of yardstick they wanted to surpass.

Later, when goals were met, and results sufficiently analyzed, Gumball announced to the public, Fionna and Marshall Lee at his sides, that the Fionnas were officially the Candy Kingdom's Civilian Army, and that this achievement would be celebrated properly at the Biennial Gumball Ball, which would be held the following week... The cheering practically shook the Kingdom all throughout the day. Marshall Lee smirked at Fionna, mocking her goofy smiling face behind Gumball's back, and she just stuck her tongue out at him, before Gumball glared at them both and chastised them for mocking public image.

But after, when Marshall Lee knew she thought she was alone, he could see a not-so-happy face. It didn't look sad or anything, it just looked...thoughtful... Marshall Lee frowned, and decided to keep this to himself. Maybe it was that 'crash after the party' thing. He'd make sure she'd be fine. After all, he was good at distracting her. Maybe the Ball thing would cheer her up.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Cake was spread all over the couch, Fionna sitting on her stomach as they played Beemo. "Is that Cherry girl gonna come play today?" Cake asked, and Fionna shook her head, "Nah, she found some other guys to play with. I think they're gonna go play Ding-Dong Ditch at Marshall's place. _Boss at the next level._" Cake chuckled as she heard Fionna laugh, "Woo for them. _Hey, oh, stop mashing my warlock!_ . . . So whatcha gonna wear for Gumball's Ball, huh? You're a guest of honor this time around, so no chickening." "_Nrgh! Hah! Eat my portal pig!_ . . . I don't really know, the last dress I wore got trashed, so..." Fionna trailed off into silence as they continued with the game. "Sorry about that..." Fionna added, wincing. Cake grinned, "Nah, no worries. But I'm all outta threads this time around, so..." Again silence ensued as they focused on the game. ". . . Doesn't _Gumbo_ got some thread skills?" Cake asked nonchalantly, and whooped as Fionna's character promptly died by Cake's warlock's space magic, "WOO!"

Fionna groaned, flopping back onto Cake as the cat cheered, and Beemo clapped, wiping the game from its face, "I shall go create celebratory confections!" the little robot announced, going to the kitchen. ". . . That was cheating." Fionna growled, red-faced, and Cake blinked, "What are ya talking about?" she asked, wide-eyed, with a smug little smile on her muzzle. "I can't ask him to do that!" Fionna whined, "That's—it's personal stuff, and he shouldn't have to do that for—...!" "It can be another 'thank you' thing?" Cake suggested, and was confused when Fionna suddenly blushed even more. Then Cake remembered that other kind of 'thank you', and wisely shut up, growling to herself. They later ate the celebratory cupcakes Beemo made, and Fionna and Cake relaxed.

Fionna thought about this, this sudden free time, and pointed this out to her sister, "Besides exploring and stuff, we haven't actually had to 'save' anything lately, huh?"

Cake thought about it, and nodded, blinking slightly.

Fionna added, "Cherry's been great, and the Candy people are a lot more out and about. Well, at least they're learning how to avoid places that eat them. Gumball's been pretty happy with the whole thing, too. And I haven't seen Ice Queen around in, well, a long time..." "Maybe it's another plan thing?" Cake asked, for some reason feeling uneasy about this conversation. Fionna looked thoughtful for a moment, and shrugged, "Maybe. Things've just been quiet." She got up from Cake, stretching, "I'm gonna go think." she told Cake, smiling, "Good game."

"Good game?! I totally kicked your butt! Don't do anything stupid!" Cake replied cheerfully.

"You cheated! I won't!" Fionna replied, laughing as she headed out the door.

She circled around Tree Fort a few times, to make sure Cake wasn't watching, and then headed off to the Ice Kingdom.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The little penguin named Gibby who manned, or birded, the door wasn't sure it deserved this kind of antagonizing.

The Human was steadily glaring, arms crossed, and foot tapping.

"What's she planning?" Fionna asked bluntly.

"Quack?" Gibby replied uneasily.

"I wanna have a talk with her." Fionna told the penguin, and waited with what looked like patience, but she felt like either breaking down the door or running away. Why was she actually asking to talk to this lady? Suddenly a blue claw shot out of the door and snatched her in by the front her shirt. Fionna squawked in the face of crazy as it grinned at her, this time wearing a sarong. What the heck?! "I thought I said _I'd_ call _you_!" the Queen giggled, "How rude! Couldn't wait to see me, huh? I'm flattered."

"Leggo, lady!" Fionna protested, grasping at the icy wrist, "I didn't come here to see you, dangit!"

Frowning, the Ice Queen let her drop, and Fionna slipped slightly on the cold floor before recovering, getting into a fighting stance, glaring, "What's your plan already?" Fionna seethed as the Queen stared, "The Kingdom's stronger now, Flame King's gone, so what're ya gonna do?! _Get it freaking over with!_"

The Ice Queen blinked slowly, and then grinned, chuckling, "Aww! You _miss_ me!"

She rode over Fionna's spluttering, her giggling slowly going into outright laughter, "You just totally made my day, piggy! Alright!" Then Fionna squeaked as the Queen rushed her, talons of ice growing from her fingers as she grinned. Things were quick, and Fionna was caught off guard and out of her territory, and it ended up with one icy claw pressing gently between her eyes just shy of breaking skin as the Queen frowned down at her, "It's no fun fighting stupid..." the Sorceress growled, then grabbed a stunned Fionna again to throw her at the lounge area, where her fall was broken by the furs.

"Oof!"

She sauntered lazily to another chair as Fionna glared at her, upside-down. "I guess since you gave me a laugh I can let it slide," the Queen decided with a sigh, and then smirked, "What'd ya wanna talk to li'l ol' me about, hmm?" "Why would I wanna talk to you?!" the girl snarled stubbornly, and the Queen lazily held up a hand, counting off her fingers, "Lessee, you come up to my place, outta the blue, itching for a fight without putting anything behind it, wanting to foil a plan I don't have, and being a little dorky brat about it to get my attention." She grinned, "Someone doesn't handle _boredom_ well." She put her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands, smirking, "Well you got my attention now. So what is it? Boy troubles? Girl troubles? Something oh so secretly sordid that you can't tell your precious diary about it?"

"No!" Fionna protested, scowling, "I—geez, of all stuff, you—!" she fell silent, feeling blood rush to her head from the gravity. From the _gravity_. "I'm gonna go. Sorry." she stated flatly, rolling off the couch, then found her feet frozen to the floor. "Hey!"

"Don't _leave _when you just got here! I know what this's about. This's about Sweet Stuff's _Ball_, isn't it?" the Ice Queen purred, walking around into Fionna's field of vision, out of range of her fists or her sword, "Aw, now that takes me back. Weren't those good memories? I seem to remember a pretty little dress that had to get all torn up... From fighting, of course." Fionna blushed, struggling to wrench her feet free, feeling the skin below the ankles numb up. "How many years has it been, huh? More than four, I know that much..." The Ice Queen pouted, "Hadn't I been a good date?"

"Shut UP!" Fionna shrieked, embarrassment and shame scrunching up her face, finally throwing her sword, but the older woman dodged it. The Ice Queen grabbed her chin, leering, "Poor piggy, couldn't tell me from her _real_ Romeo." she sneered, chuckling, but then patted her on the head, "Eh, I'm not bitter. But gosh golly gee, doesn't time fly! Got a new dress yet?" She grinned as Fionna stayed quiet, nodding, "Thought so!"

She cocooned Fionna in ice up to her waist, dragging her back to the lounge area, "Obviously we can't go with the all-white again, you've grown since then. In some way, I'm sure. And blue's _my_ color so that's definitely out. Decisions, decisions. Goody, Goony, get the fabrics!" "Wait, what?!" Fionna protested, renewing her struggling as penguins arrived with what looked like measuring tapes, sewing kits, sketch books, and fabric rolls, "This isn't—wait, no, what the heck?! What is this?!" "You paying back a favor," the Queen told her sweetly, sitting back to observe and direct, "You're gonna be my mannequin for the day. I'm gonna make you a dress for the Ball, and you're gonna wear it to the Ball, for the _entire_ Ball, for _everyone_ to see. _That_ was my plan... Well, I _was_ gonna kidnap you and do this anyway if I had to wait too long, but you made it easier on me. Idiot. Tell me how bored you are now, huh?" she laughed, and then scowled, "Goony, no, no pink, dangit!"

She grumbled as the penguin hastily bore away the shamed fabric, "Pink, _honestly_. You'd blend in too much with Sweet Stuff."

"So-so you're gonna make me look bad?!" Fionna asked, struggling as a penguin tried to wrap the measuring tape around her neck.

"No, no, no," the Ice Queen chuckled, a zap of lightning keeping the heroine from moving around too much, the Sorceress's expression beaming triumph and sadistic satisfaction. "I'm going to make you look _good_. You'll see how pretty I can make you and _writhe _with that unwilling gratitude and reminder of me the entire time you attend that silly Ball. And that's not all. When anyone asks you where you _got_ this dress? You will say it was made just for you by your _best friend_ the _Ice Queen._" She smirked, "This is the _first_ of your two favors you will repay to me. Isn't that nice?"

Fionna's face of stricken horror was absolutely priceless.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"So how'd thinking go? Do anything stupid?" Cake asked, hearing Fionna come in.

"I got a dress." she heard Fionna say in answer, but it sounded like it was said in dead tone.

"That's cool!" Cake replied happily, glancing at her as Fionna rummaged around the fridge, "Do I get to see it?"

". . . No, not until the Ball."

Cake pouted, focusing on her knitting, "Boo. Well, that's only a few days away. Hey, did ya think about the Ice Queen? Any idea what she's up to?"

"I don't even _know_ any more," was the groan, "She. Is. _Evil_."

A package in blue wrapping with a blue-white ribbon showed up the next day, feeling like it had cloth inside it, only saying 'For My BFF Fionna' with a little heart around it.

Cake had no idea why Fionna screamed so much.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall Lee and Fionna were helping Gumball set up the Castle again for the Ball. You could never tell anything had been destroyed. It was nice to not need ladders this time, with Marshall helping with the ceiling decorations. Marshall Lee was being surprisingly helpful lately. With the army, with lots of stuff. Fionna watched as he made a mess of the streamers to make a scary face, and then change it to a spiderweb when she glared. Well, helpful enough for Marshall. When they stood back to look at the work, Marshall used her shoulder as an armrest. "So-o..." he began, and she looked sidewise at him, already suspicious, "What?" she asked uneasily. He smirked, "Queenie ask ya out yet?"

"Oh you freakin'—!" she shoved him, blushing furiously, and he followed her when she stomped off, laughing, "I was joking, Fionna!"

"Not _funny-y-y!" _she sang out angrily, and he hovered upside-down over her, grinning, their faces close, "Then why am I laughing?"

". . . 'C-Cause you're a jerk." she snapped, moving around him, flushed. He chuckled. Her heartbeat had shot up.

"Guilty! Really though, you goin' with anybody?" he asked, still sticking with her, "I know it's different this time around, being a guest of honor, but still."

"That's stupid stuff to ask," she grumbled, "But no, I'm not going with anybody. It's annoying when people _steal_ my dance partners."

"Well good, it's annoying to have to steal 'em." he chuckled, glancing behind her, ". . . And don't worry if you do. I'll just make sure to steal _you_."

Before she could do anything like question or hit him, he disappeared, "See ya!" the air cackled, before going silent.

She stared at the empty air, before seething, face flushed, "That—! _Aaaargh!_"

"'Aargh'?" She whirled around to see Gumball, who was holding a clipboard, and at the moment looked concerned. Fionna eased up, smiling nervously while shrugging, "Sorry. Just...just Marshall Lee. He knew about the...well, y'know, that last Ball..." "Ah." Gumball grimaced, "I'm sorry." She shook her head, "Don't be. It's old news." she assured him. Then she looked at his clipboard, "Whatcha doin'?" He turned it around to show a list, "Just checking the party criteria. We might be set up. I was just going to see how you and Marshall Lee did, and then finish the catering."

"Can I help?" she asked automatically. He smiled, "Could you accompany me?" he asked, and despite herself she flushed, "Uh, yeah, I can do that, too."

He smiled, and gestured for her to walk with him, and they went back towards the main room. They were circling it while he checked things off the list, and he frowned up at the spiderweb. "I suppose that's an improvement from a face." he sighed, when she told him what the vampire had done earlier. She laughed, "Yeah."

They were walking towards the kitchens when he spoke up again.

"I. . . I can never really thank you properly." he said quietly, and she blinked at him, "Huh?"

He smiled down at her, lopsidedly, "You've saved my Kingdom once again, Fionna, with its army. You've always done more than was ever required of you. I admire that. A lot of people admire that." he sighed, and she flushed, "Er, um..." she stammered, not sure how to thank a compliment. He laughed again, "Even this," he leaned in suddenly, close to her face, and her voice caught in her throat as a squeak, as she stumbled to a stop. He smiled at her again, "Even this is insufficient, isn't it?" he inquired, and she could feel his breath on her face. It smelled nice.

"Gah?"

He blinked, "Oh, I'm sorry. That was rude of me." he backed up again, and they continued, Fionna's face a bright red.

"Y-you did that on purpose..." she mumbled out, and he laughed, "I'm sorry," he repeated, a polite blush on his face, "I only had good intentions."

He smiled to himself as she grumbled, something warming in his chest. She was much more comfortable with him now, in a way. She was even questioning him now, she'd never really done that before. "I just need to put some things in the ovens to keep warm until tonight, and prepare another batch to keep in cool storage if more needs making on the spot." he told her, setting aside his clipboard and rolling up his sleeves. "Could you hand me that tray over there?" he asked, pointing to it as he opened one of the ovens. She looked around and found it, and he took it from her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

She froze as he rummaged around with ingredients, staring at his back.

"Can you find me the large green bowl, please? It should be in the bottom cabinet over there." he gestured with his foot while he worked.

Blinking, she did so, and he turned to take it from her, this time kissing her on the forehead, making her jump back. He grinned, "_Thank _you." and turned back to his work. She had the most amusing expression on her face, he thought, laughing as coarse dough took shape under his hands.

"Is there a rolling pin back there?" he went on to ask, and one landed next to his hand with a loud clatter. He laughed aloud, picking it up.

"Thank you!" he called over his shoulder, and heard her unintelligible muttering again. He could see why Marshall Lee loved teasing her so much.

"Okay, I'm back, miss me?! What's happening?"

Speak of the demon. This could either turn out alright, or very bad.

"GB's baking." he heard Fionna say.

"Ah. And you're his little helper?"

"No, I'm just watching this time."

"Eh, it's not so much fun to just...watch. I'd feel pretty left out."

Gumball flushed, fingers clenching into the dough at Marshall's tone. Oh no.

"If you say so. Uh, no offense meant, GB!" he heard her say.

"None taken, Fionna!" he replied, laughing, not turning around. He didn't want them to see his face. "It's not a spectator sport, I suppose." he went on.

"Yeah, some _participation_ is required to enjoy any of it. Want any help with that, Gummy Bear?" Marshall Lee purred. Gumball punched the dough with his fist.

"I'm _fine_. _Thank _you." he said blankly. "Do you need something to do, vampire?"

"I can think of a couple things I _want_ to do." Marshall Lee returned, laughing, and Gumball's jaw gritted. The idiot.

"Hey, would you want to help me out with them, Fio?" the half-demon went on to ask, and Gumball froze. _He wouldn't_.

". . . It depends." she replied uneasily, "What are they?"

"Oh, they'll be fun, trust me."

"_OnsecondthoughtofcourseyoucanhelpmeMarshallLee!_" Gumball spat out, turning around to go and take the vampire by the shirt collar and forcefully _drag _him back to the impromptu workstation, "There's more dough where that came from, please, help me work with it, _thank you_."

"Happy to." the older man chuckled, cracking his knuckles, "Hey, hey, Fio, we could make stuff out of this!"

"Yes. Pastries." Gumball emphasized sternly, as Fionna edged in, looking at him with concern. He glanced at her, "Yes, could you help too?" he asked with a sigh, and she nodded, chuckling uncertainly, "You both are weird." she decided, before searching for more of the dough to work with. They both glanced at her while her back was turned, then at each other. Marshall Lee raised an eyebrow, and Gumball shook his head. The vampire showed a fang, but rolled his eyes, smirking as he made little skulls out of the dough.

Eventually, of course, those two started a food fight. But it had been enjoyable, and the cleanup a lighthearted affair. Gumball looked around the empty kitchen after they were done, nodding. He thought of the way they'd all interacted with each other today, and felt anticipation and nervousness twist together in his brain and chest. They were nearly ready. Just a few things more, and then the show could begin...


	40. Instar II

It was the eve of the Biennial Gumball Ball, and the guests were steadily arriving, Peppermint Maid acting as herald and keeper of the guest list. The Prince noted that Cake had come alone, escorted by Lord Monochromicorn. He'd managed to catch the cat's eye, sure he'd gotten his unasked question across, but she'd only smirked at him, shrugging. He wasn't sure he deserved that. The invitation had said formal dress, but Marshall Lee never bothered with invitations. Gumball was understandably quite nervous, checking over the settings, the staff, the food, the guests, his bow tie, while waiting for her to appear. She had gotten a dress, hadn't she? She hadn't asked him anything about one. He'd hoped her silence wasn't out of a sense of self-reliance or embarrassment. He would've been happy to have acquired one for her. Though who knows, she might've had an extra back at Tree F—he blinked as Peppermint Maid cleared her throat near the main doors.

"Announcing, Fionna the Human!"

He smiled, relieved as everyone automatically cheered, glancing up at the distant ceiling, where he saw Marshall Lee keeping an idle eye on the main doors. When she walked in, Gumball theorized that that idle eye had become two most _attentive_ eyes. But he only theorized, as his gaze was likewise occupied, as well as the majority of his brain cells. Fionna looked nothing short of _stunning_. Of course, it made sense she wouldn't wear the same dress, but this _dress..._

Gumball recalled dazedly The Theory he'd concocted in what seems like an eternity ago, about the image of the Dress she'd worn that had impressed him. That was swept away and the Theory confirmed to Fact by the vision of her now, standing at the giant door, a faint flush of color on her face. The dress' style was perfectly modest, if unusual, yet tasteful and...mature. Gone were the poofy sleeves and bell skirt and pastel pink bow. This could be best compared to a _chiton_, showing the leanness, curves, and stance of a woman, rather than the innocent, fluffy frills of the child that he now truly realized she wasn't any more. The gold was still there, but as a sturdy yet intricate weave under the bust and looping down and across the waist like a weapon's belt, decorating the hem of the cloth, and as clasps at the shoulders, leaving her arms bare. She still wore white, he could see, but among the folds were sections of red with traces of dark pink in the layers underneath the main robing. She still wore the rabbit hood, of course, but somehow an opening in the back let enough of her hair out to be like a ponytail, adding a note of wildness to the image. Then she walked, and he realized the skirt allowed her ankles to be shown, he could see simple white sandals on her feet, showing stocking-less skin. And if that wasn't enough, she then turned to speak to someone, and he saw her sword at her hip, hung from that decoration that truly _was_ a weapon's belt. It was tactfully sheathed in a simple, decorative scabbard, yet present, and his mouth went inexplicably dry at the silent proclamation she made. It both floored and flooded him. It was noble. It was sweet. It was delicate. It was strong. It was _her_.

"That," he heard Marshall Lee murmur smugly in undertone behind him, "What's on your face right now is the expression you sometimes get when you watch her. I see her, too... Really, Bubba, can ya blame me for wanting us to have her?"

". . . No." Gumball muttered back, watching as she began to mingle, watching as the crowd started to take her attentions, her company. "No, no I can't."

He felt his friend pat him on the shoulder, "It's cool, bro." he chuckled, "And I'll take that as me getting dibs on dancing with her first."

Gumball nodded absently, and it wasn't until the vampire drifted off towards her that he blinked, the spell broken, "Wait, first—?! Hey, wait, _hey!_"

* * *

. . .

* * *

Lord Monochromicorn was amused as Cake's head swiveled around like an owl as they danced, locked dead on her sister. "_I _didn't do that!" Cake told her Mo, pointing wide-eyed, "_She _couldn't a' done that! Who did that?!" Then she glared as she saw one fang-face flying in, "And _he __**shouldn't** _be doing that." she growled. But then she forgot her righteous vendetta as Monochro pressed his muzzle to hers. She squeaked, her fur abruptly frizzing like crazy. "Not in front a' the _people!_" she squealed happily, flushing madly while harmlessly batting at him, and Monochro was smug with a distraction well-utilized.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna smiled, flushing at the many compliments and attention while, true to the Ice Witch's word, she was quietly writhing in the back of her brain, hoping to fuzz this out until the excitement died down. However, that was clearly too much to hope for as a low whistle sounded out, "We-he-_hell_, Fi-_on_-na!"

Oh, crap, no.

"Marshall..." she greeted back uncomfortably, letting him take her hand. He smirked down at her, eyes wide and shamelessly drinking it in.

"Okay, I thought I knew crazy that last time, with that other dress? But strap me up in a straitjacket, Fio, this is _maddening_." he purred, floating them above the crowd like he liked to do. She nodded wordlessly, looking at some point below his chin as they lazily danced, and he took a moment to admire the shade of red on her face. Then he frowned when she remained quiet, "Wha-at, second thoughts? Don't worry, you really do look great." He was confused when she winced slightly. Then he got a bit worried. "Fio, where'd you get the dress?" he asked quietly, and felt her stiffen up. Her smile looked pinned at the corners at she grinned at him, "It. I-i-it was made. Just for me. By... My..." Sweat was breaking out on her forehead, her teeth gritting in the grin, and Marshall Lee watched, slightly concerned and mostly curious. Was she gonna explode? "_My_..." Fionna strained, growling, "My..._best...**friend**...Ice Queeeen..._" she finished with a snarl, and then hung her head. "Geh."

Marshall Lee stared, put the little pieces together, and then snorted. Which turned into a chuckle. Which turned into a laugh as he spun Fionna around, surprising her. "Oh, _Glob_, I could—oh, I'm gonna die! I'm sure I'm gonna_ di-hi-hie!_" he howled in laughter, and Fionna hurriedly tried to shush him. "_ShutupshutupshutupMarsh-a-all_...!" she hissed, swatting his shoulders, and he giggled helplessly in slight pain, settling down to look at her. "Ah-hah-hah, oh, man, you make my millennium, Fio." he went on, grinning, looking at her again, ". . . _Whew._ Those favors don't seem so bad now, huh?"

She glared, "It's humiliating!" she protested.

"It's hot!" he replied bluntly, and up shot her heartbeat and red flushed her face. He grinned, floating them down as he chose to obey gravity for once and let her dance with him because she could instead of because she had no choice. He kept it simple, easy, something she could keep up with. She barely trod on his feet. "Don't let her win." he suggested, and she looked at him uncertainly, still dealing with him, and he smirked. "Take it and make it yours. Get me?"

She stared, clearly thinking, and then took Marshall by surprise as she took a firmer step in the dance, putting some of her own movement into it, looking more determined. "Show me how." she requested bluntly, referring to the dance, and Marshall Lee grinned, perfectly happy to oblige, "Yes, _ma'am_."

* * *

. . .

* * *

They danced, actually enjoying it, and Fionna wondered when was the last time they'd actually hung out for fun. She felt some guilt as she remembered it'd been some time. The next Casual Tea would be looked forward to. Too soon, Peppermint Maid's voice spoke up again, long after all of the guests should have arrived, sounding uncertain.

"Announcing Her Highness, the Queen and Enchantress of the Ice!"

They both froze. Everything froze. But not literally, or at least, not yet.

In the sudden silence of the party, _she _stepped in, and no one could fail to hear Gumball's sudden instinctive "_Urk_."

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Good intro, Peppy. Nice party, y'all!" the Ice Queen purred, clad in a bare-shouldered, figure-hugging midnight-blue slip with whirling designs of silver thread. Gloves of the same colored cloth ended at her biceps, while a conspicuous, daring slit showed the blue skin of her thigh and the silver buckles of Roman sandals. She leered at Prince Gumball as he swallowed, and smirked, "I'm here by invitation of the Human, the _guest of honor_." she winked at the Human from across the expansive room, "Ain't that right, Fionna? Don't we like to do our friends _favors?_" Fionna's eyes narrowed as she glared, and everyone seemed to wait, before the Human nodded, hand easing off the hilt of her sword. The Ice Queen smirked triumphantly, and the party went back in full swing as the Sorceress focused on the Candy Prince, bearing a grin uncomfortably reminiscent of sharks. Gumball paled.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The muttering renewed, and Fionna nearly buried her face against Marshall in shame, "The second favor. If she doesn't 'do' anything, I can't fight her." she muttered unhappily. "Don't worry," he told her, watching as the Queen approached the Prince. "I got a plan. You with me?"

Fionna looked up at him quickly, determined as she told him plainly, "Hack, yeah."

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball looked nervous for a moment, but this was quickly replaced by wariness and controlled stoicism as she stopped in front of him. "Your Highness." he greeted simply, politely, and she grinned down at him. "I hope you got the manners to ask a woman to dance." she said sweetly, and the Prince stiffened for a moment before he nodded, dourly offering to take her hand with a minimal bow. She giggled, and they went around the room in a simple waltz, sometimes exchanging who had the lead, or more like subtly fighting for it. "I hope you have the decency to leave this place intact, Your Highness," he replied in undertone, "I've had my fill of combat." "Oh, don't be a _mood_-killer, cutie," she chuckled, playfully squeezing his shoulder, perhaps digging in slightly with her claws, but he showed no clear signs of discomfort. She pouted when she didn't seem to provoke him. "After all I've done for you, too." she sighed, weaving her fingers with his, and he heroically did not shudder.

"Your help was appreciated," he replied stiffly, "And if you wish, I could honor that appreciation in public." She snorted, "Naw, I don't do flashy stuff." He raised an eyebrow, and found her looking at the skin of his neck not covered by the high collar of his suit, "I want something a little more..._personal_..." she purred, and _finally _got a rise out of him as that annoying little face of propriety dissolved into frank disgust. She chuckled, breaking the act, "Not like _that_, you perv!" she said gleefully as he attempted to regain himself. She used a move in the dance to bring them closer, leering at him, "I've just been paving your pretty little way with posies and kittens since I started listening to what little birdies told me," she said quietly, with a crooked smile, "I've saved everything you care about, left you alone, put your priorities before my own, _and_ I made her that dress you've been drooling over, too. How do ya like that? So I think it's time I got something back for my selflessness, hmm?"

Then she softened up slightly in the face of his stricken expression. Slightly. Her smile quirked, "I want somethin' special, but I'm not quite sure _what_, so don't worry your pretty li'l head too much." She patted his face, regaining her smirk, "So relax, enjoy the party. I'll take my time before I tell you what I want." She glanced aside, and a brighter smirk lit up her face, "When we won't get interrupted by your rescuers, of course." she giggled.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Remember, you get GB, I get Queenie, and we keep 'em _away_ from each other." Marshall Lee murmured as they danced closer and closer to the other couple.

Fionna nodded resolutely.

"On my mark, to the beat," the vampire continued as they tensed.

"_One_-two-three-four.

_Two_-two-three-four.

_Three!"_

* * *

. . .

* * *

It was a confusion of bodies that lasted for a mere second and a happy cry of _Yoink! _from the Ice Queen.

When it ended, Gumball and Marshall Lee were facing each other in an impeccable waltz form, while the Ice Queen enthusiastically danced a bewildered Fionna away.

The two men stared at each other for a beat or two, before their heads snapped around, panic arising.

"HEY!"

* * *

. . .

* * *

Surprise kept Fionna off her bearings as she was led through a dance by the Ice Queen, who grinned down at her. "Nice dress." the Queen chuckled, and Fionna flinched, but the witch's iron grasp kept her going. "Marshall was supposed to get you!" Fionna protested finally. Ice Queen leered, "That little twerp can wait his turn." she told her, and Fionna realized they were dancing through the crowd, towards an out-of-the-way alcove that led to a balcony, "I thought you and I could spend a little _girl_ _time _together. Y'know, BFFs do that a lot. Thought we should totally try it. Alley-_oop_!" Fionna was shoved towards the stony bannister, and before she could react Ice Queen had yanked the curtains shut on the main room and frozen the fabric to a solid mass, a thick, cold wall, closing them off. When the Ice Queen turned to face her 'BFF', Fionna already had her sword drawn and an eagerly vicious smile on her face that said something like 'finally', a smile that flagged when the Queen simply sat down on the balcony bench, crossing one elegant leg over the other with a smirk.

"I'll admit it is convenient to have time designated _solely_ for the females." a silky voice observed, and Fionna's jaw dropped as the Lady of Evil formed from the Ice Queen's moonlit shadow, dressed in the simple, legendary Little Black Dress, her hair down and nearly blending with the dress if not for the fabric's subtle red glitter, the Nightosphere Amulet glinting like a brooch on one strap. The snake eyes were blank and observant as a genial smile was placed on the demoness's face.

"It's been a while, Human. How have you been?" Harriet asked pleasantly.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"_Lost_ them?" Gumball hissed in a whisper behind a pasted smile, "How could you _lose **them **_with those precious demon eyes of yours?"

"Queenie snuffed their scent, okay?" Marshall Lee growled as they danced, looking around anxiously, pointedly ignoring the slight laughter at their situation. He'd get those cavities back later. "I don't know how she did but—dude_, I'm_ leading, quit tugging." "I wouldn't _have _to lead if you'd keep with the measure." Gumball sniffed, "I thought a musician would have a better sense of rhythm than this." "Well, sorry that baby-stepping with ya isn't high on my to-do list right now." The hand holding Marshall's squeezed tightly enough to suggest cutting off what circulation was left. Of course, the Prince didn't have that kind of grip strength, but the intent got across, "_How _does the Ice Queen know about the _Plan_, Marshall?" he asked blandly. Marshall Lee sneered, "That's not important at the moment, so just qui—" Marshall Lee began to snap, then froze, and Gumball was nearly dragged to a stop.

". . . What is it?" Gumball asked, as they went on uneasily. Marshall Lee suddenly looked sick. "Well," the vampire began, "My hands are cold all of a sudden, my guts are trying to shrink, I'm itching around the eyes, and I feel like my whole body's trying to grow fur." ". . . That sounds strangely like fear." Gumball commented drily. Marshall Lee stared at him, "You don't get it, Bubba," he said, lines appearing under his eyes as he looked shocked, "There're only a few times when this happens. My _mom _is here. As in, _here_."

This time it was Gumball who nearly stopped.

". . . Oh, fudge..." the Prince said weakly, and they looked around, desperation renewed. Around them, the party laughed and chattered as if nothing were wrong.

They had to find Fionna.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"_You _weren't invited." Fionna stated bluntly, still holding out the sword. "Ah, ah, ah!" Ice Queen spoke up, raising a finger, "She's my shadow tonight, piggy. Literally. So, by the favor, she's _also_ a guest of honor of the guest of honor." Fionna blinked, then snarled, "Geez, nobody likes a freaking party crasher!" the heroine protested.

"I don't _crash_ parties, kiddo, I _grace _them." Harriet corrected smoothly. "Now, let's get down to the meat of the matter, shall we? Please, have a seat."

". . . What do you want?" Fionna growled uneasily, hesitantly sheathing her sword when it looked like no one would attack, but not sitting. It'd be a shame to wreck all these dresses any way. The Lady of Evil tilted her head, "For now, I just want to talk with you." she replied, "You've been causing quite a stir, lately, Human."

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Tell me why we can't just shake the place up?" Marshall Lee growled, "Get your precious army up and gunning, Gummy Bear..." "You know your _mother_, _and _the Ice Queen, one of whom is a guest of Fionna, the other I might _have_ to count as a guest simply because she is politically and strategically superior to us _both_." Gumball replied frustratedly, "Everyone here is vulnerable, but not in immediate danger. We've just _recovered _from an encounter, Marshall, please don't start something we can't end."

When Marshall still looked violent, Gumball relented, "Circle the castle perimeter, but be subtle and do _not_ engage unless it seems necessary to do so. I'll alert the staff."

Marshall Lee nodded, and made to leave, but then hesitated, "GB," he said, "If it comes to it, don't...don't try to hurt my mom, alright? Just leave her to me."

That made Gumball blink, and Marshall Lee shrugged, "She's _family_." he explained bluntly.

The Prince paused, but nodded, confused expression fading, "Understood."

Gumball found Peppermint Maid, while Marshall Lee found a window to fly out of.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I don't know what you're talking about." Fionna responded, really not knowing what else to say.

Marshall Lee's mom didn't look too mad about this, and her smile actually widened, "That's one of the things that makes you such a fascinating specimen." she explained. "You are..._inadvertent_. Natural. Unpredictable. Interesting. I've had quite of few fire demons hounding my person and flooding my inboxes with complaints about you."

"_Fire_ demons?!" Fionna spluttered, "B-but the Flame King and I aren't—"

"The denounced Flame _Queen_ still has followers, who knew about the Flame King's...connections," Harriet mentioned matter-of-factly, "And some of those followers are demonologists. And that's not all. Some lesser demons, witches, warlocks, ghosts, why-wolves (who are very irritating to argue with), along with various other entities and not to mention some old cult of the _Lich _are all displeased with your existence and constantly bring this displeasure to my attention. You have a lot of enemies, kiddo." She tilted her head at the human, who looked stunned, "It gives me such a headache. And of course, when I get a headache, it reminds me of you. Do you know how hard it is to get split brains to cooperate with themselves again? For a while I had a split personality, too. Fortunately she's quiet nowadays." Ice Queen giggled.

"_Witches_?" Fionna finally thought to ask, glaring at the Queen, who broke her mirth to scoff, "_Sorceress _here, piggy. Don't stereotype. And I take care of my own problems, thank you very much!" The demoness politely cleared her throat and the Queen paled, "Bu-u-ut I like to rely on my _friends _in times of need!" she continued hastily, nervously laughing.

"But you need not worry," the Lady of Evil soothed when Fionna looked stressed again, "The enemies are merely making complaints, cowardly commissioning, not open threats. Not many hope to attack you any more, sheerly because by some unexplainable phenomenon, you do not fail to win. It's a good thing to have enemies. It means you're doing something right." "And you?" Fionna asked uneasily, "I'm not hearing your say on this, Lady." Said Lady simply smiled.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall Lee's eyes were wide and glowing as he snaked along the outer castle walls, mouth slightly open to help his sense of smell that seemed to be on the fritz.

He snarled.

Dangit, what would his Ma want with Fionna?!

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I don't tend to mix my personal agendas with business," Harriet said, "Usually. But fortunately, I've decided to let go of any past conflicts between us for the sake of practicality, and the fact that you had in your way salvaged some of my relationship with my son. You know, before you painfully banished me back into the Nightosphere. But I digress—oh?"

They looked around as the Peppermint Maid had cut and chipped her way through the icy curtains.

"Pep!" Fionna warned, but the Maid only nodded, smiling politely, "His Highness Gumball is sending out search parties out of concern for the Human." she reported to Harriet, "And this includes your son, who I cannot speak for. I have obligations to my job, you understand, so I can't be quiet."

"I understand." Harriet smiled amiably, "Just tell the Prince we're having some girl time, but not where we're having it. No harm, no foul, yes?"

Peppermint Maid nodded again, while Fionna just looked confused, "Got it. Badminton, same time next week?"

"Looking forward to it." the demoness agreed, and the Maid waved before going back through the hole she'd made, which the Ice Queen irritably sealed up again.

Fionna stared, while Harriet cleared her throat, "Pardon that. Where was I? Ah, yes."

She looked back at Marshall's mom, who smiled, "I have a proposition for you, Fionna."

". . . What?" the girl asked, and the demoness explained, "Since you've been brought to my attention I'd been keeping eyes on you, out of self-interest. I've noticed that in recent days you've seemed very...dissatisfied with your life." "I'm _fine_, thank you." the human growled. Harriet then actually _grinned_, showing the first of many rows of fangs, "We all know you don't believe that, kiddo."

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I can't be satisfied that she is just having _girl time_, Monet!" Gumball protested, while the Maid was simply _smiling_. _Politely! _

"Out of respect for our guests' privacy and your concerns, I do apologize." she replied, still managing to sound regretful, "But do not worry, please, no harm will be done."

Frustrated, Gumball paced, scowling, "I respect _you_, Monet, and am grateful for your role in my life and the lineage of my family," he said evenly, even as he paced, "But I cannot accept your words. I question your loyalties. Should this insubordinance continue, and bring things to ill, I will need to take steps against you."

"I understand, Your Highness." she said, and he looked at her, and was slightly shaken by the simple expression on her face. She really did.

He scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose, ". . . I'm sorry. I absolve you from the search party. Go attend to the guests, distract them if need be." he muttered, giving up.

She curtsied, "Yes, Your Highness. Your Highness?"

"What?" he snapped, looking at her.

She smiled gently, "I am sorry, too." and left.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"I don't know what you're _talking _about..." Fionna repeated for the second time that evening, but this time the words were more vicious.

The Ice Queen smirked while the Demon Queen went on, seemingly feeling unthreatened, "Change is such an uncomfortable thing, isn't it?" she asked. "You're seeing it all the time, now, aren't you?" When Fionna stayed quiet the older woman continued, "I understand, you know. I've seen change all the time. And I myself can't help it. That's your problem, yes? That you're falling behind in the change, feeling stagnant? Perhaps even...obsolete?"

"Shut up." Fionna warned, and the Queen blinked, "You can't possibly be denying it," she inquired, "When it's right in front of your face."

"Shut. Up." she seethed, this time one hand reaching to her blade. The demoness raised her hands, "My apologies." she murmured, "I do not mean to antagonize."

"Doing a crap job of it." Fionna snapped back coarsely, glaring at the Ice Queen, "I don't need to hear what you got to say."

"Then please consider my proposal," she insisted, "I'll cut to the crux: I want you to work for me."

The Ice Queen chuckled out of the blue, a surprising cackle, and the demoness sighed, "Honey, you're not helping with the 'unthreatening' image."

The sorceress quickly looked chastened, "Sorry."

Fionna was staring, bemused, "I'm no one's minion, lady." she replied bluntly.

"Oh, you won't be my minion," the woman was quick to explain, "It's more like you'll be my...investment... I can help you, Fionna, you know this..."

Fionna was about to rebuke her again, when she paused, curiosity and frustration making her say, ". . . Spit it out, then..."

The Demon Queen smiled.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The vampire stared at the one shadow he couldn't see into. It clung to the castle like some sort of freaky fungus, unnaturally dark and unnaturally still, casing over the place he knew a certain balcony was. It had 'mom' written all over it. He stared for a little more, before perching near it, waiting patiently, or at least until he felt like tearing into the thing. Alright, he got it, Ma, you want to talk to the girl? You can talk to the girl. But _after _you talk to the girl, you're gonna get a talking to from the boy...

* * *

. . .

* * *

Marshall Lee watched as the shadow dissolved, showing an empty balcony with a frozen curtain that had a hole smashed through it. Suddenly the smells came to him, and he landed on the balcony, quickly assessing. Fionna, Ice Queen's scent blended with Ma's. No blood, no fear, only slight tints of anger. Fionna's anger. He really didn't like this. He followed the smell of Fionna, snarling.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Gumball stared, in parts of relief, confusion, curiosity, and frustration. "It's okay," Fionna assured him again, as the Ice Queen brushed past them with a smug smirk. He was confused to not see the Lady of Evil. "We were just talking." she told him, and he was surprised when she took his arm, "I owe ya a dance, right? I was supposed to before, but got the wrong partner." she asked, giving a fake laugh, and he could see her anxiety, "Let's dance." He frowned as they stepped into the ballroom, and opened his mouth, but she overrode him, "Please?"

He stopped, sighing, and led her into the dance, looking her over. She looked fine. He squeezed her hand to reassure her, and she smiled nervously at him before keeping her gaze somewhere at level with his chest, "It's fine." she told him quietly after a while, "You don't need to worry, okay?"

He glanced over her head to see Marshall Lee, he could see the red of his eyes even from here. Gumball gestured with his gaze to the Ice Queen, and subtly nodded his head to indicate Fionna. He saw the vampire nod in return, and drift towards the Ice Queen, before he returned his attention to Fionna, who'd looked up at him in his silence. He smiled tiredly at her, letting himself feel relief, "I want to, though." he told her simply, and saw the faintest flush on her face as she nodded, and they wordlessly continued with the dance.

* * *

. . .

* * *

The Ice Queen grinned as fang-face forcefully dragged her onto the dance floor, "Well, aren't we eager!" she snickered, and he glared at her, level to her thanks to his floating. "What did you do to her?" he snarled. "I didn't harm a hair on her pretty little head." she cooed, "What, were ya jealous?"

"Shut up, Queenie." he snapped, glaring at her eyes, but not really _at _them, more like _into _them, "I _know_ you're there, Ma."

The Ice Queen rolled her eyes, pouting, and then the eyes rolled again until they rolled up into her head to show the snake-like orbs. Fangs peeked from the Ice Queen's mouth, smiling as a voice that was not hers issued out, "Good to see you, too, Marshy." The Ice Queen's shadow oozed up to encase her, until it looked like the Demon Queen was dancing with her son. Strangely, while there were uneasy glances, no one commented. "I'm sorry I can't be here _personally_." she continued easily, "Mommy's had a lot of work to do lately."

"Yeah, but apparently you're never too busy to mess with my life." he growled, "What're you doing here?"

She sighed, "Can't a mother talk to her son's friends?" she asked, but then smiled, "Your precious human is fine, dear. And so is your sweet Prince." She glanced over at the couple in question, her smile widening as he moved so she couldn't see them, "You always were such a greedy boy, little Marshy."

When he flushed, she chuckled, "I've been asked to keep quiet about the girl time. If you want answers, you'll have to ask _her_." she indicated the human girl again.

"I don't approve," she added, and watched the monstrous face that her son gave her, smiling, "But I can accept it." she continued, and enjoyed watching that face turn confused, "It's so manipulative," she admired, "So twisted. So selfish. I have high hopes for you, so long as you don't get too attached. You're showing progress to being my heir yet, honey."

"_No_, Ma," he growled, "No then, no now, and no until you're dead old dust in a freaking vacuum cleaner."

He yelped when the hand on his shoulder sent sharp talons into the flesh of it, "Don't talk to your mother like that." she scolded, and he seethed.

"Just leave 'em alone." he warned.

"I will not approach them." she assured him, smiling, and he was uneasy, but he nodded.

"You owe my friend here a favor, yes?" she went on to ask, gesturing to the body she possessed, and Marshall Lee scoffed. She chuckled, "We've agreed on your repayment." she decided, "You will write and send letters to me once a week, including extra if they are on holidays and my birthday. Even if I don't write back, you will write. A fifty-word minimum, no coarse language, topics of your choice, so long as they are true and coherent. You will be graded on punctuation, spelling, and grammar. I leave the penalties for those things to your imagination."

Marshall Lee stopped, shocked, "What...what do you...? Wait, _what_?" he spat, thrown, and she grinned. "I always want to hear from my beloved son." she told him sweetly. He stared in confused horror. This wasn't how he planned the conversation to go at all.

* * *

. . .

* * *

**Author's Greeting:**

_Hello, and congratulations for sticking with me this long. At this note, the story should be 40 chapters, and roughly 100k words. Another milestone reached, my reader, but bear with me, we're on the home stretch. But I'm wondering: is the story going well? Not too well? Too long? Too many twists? I'm sincerely hoping it has been enjoyable for you so far. I've certainly enjoyed writing it. (And am taking a sort of pleasure in having you along for the ride.) So if you are reading this, I just wanted to say 'thank you' along with that congratulations._

_And so, thank you. Keep calm and carry coffee._

_Yrs., the hatchling_

_P.S. If it wasn't obvious by now: I like coffee. I like it more than I should. I could really use some coffee. In fact, yes, if you like coffee, get yourself a cup of coffee. Or hot cocoa or something. Or maybe hot tea, that's good too. Yes. You. You know who you are. If you've made it this far, you deserve some sort of tangible reward for it. Get. A cup. Of the good stuff. . . Sorry, just had to get that out of my system. Really though, keep calm. Ta!  
_


	41. Cocoon

The party went on in full swing, going from traditional classics to swing to jazz to rock to line dances, whatever was possible, a pleasant evolution from the old parties Gumball had thrown. It was slightly surreal to see formally dressed partygoers square dance. At one point they even had a hexagonal dance, which would be legendary and be told to those dancers' great-grandchildren, who like each generation would then be told that story repeatedly and only remember it so they can tell it to their own progeny out of amiable revenge, as the tradition of family stories go.

Marshall Lee had ditched his mother's company, and by association the Ice Queen's, who'd been given back her body when they were done talking. He was watching Gumball and Fionna dance, feeling angry. His mom had no business being anywhere near them. She had no freaking business to literally waltz in and mess with his things like she always did. Alright, he was greedy, so freaking what? Fine timing to suddenly care, Ma! And _what_ did she do to Fionna? . . . Thinking, he turned invisible, and floated around the couple, watching them, watching Fionna. He could smell anxiety with an aftertaste of anger, but no blood. Typically that would be a good thing, but knowing his mother...

He put a hand lightly on GB's shoulder, the one Fionna wasn't touching, and the guy only barely stepped out of rhythm before continuing. Good. Marshall leaned in, "Ask her what my mom talked to her about." he growled quietly, tracing a nail on the cloth of the shoulder. "Ask her if she signed anything..."

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna was confused when Gumball nearly misstepped, a stumble that almost got his foot under hers. She looked up at him, and saw his eyes were slightly unfocused. Then the Prince blinked down at her, "Marshall Lee is...worried about you, too..." he told her, and then she felt something touch her hand that was on GB's shoulder, and she nearly jerked, but Gumball kept her in the dance. She glared at GB, and at the air above his shoulders, but couldn't pick anything out except for the vampire's invisible hand on hers.

"She _is_ his mother," Gumball said, sounding sorry, "Fionna, we do want to know if you're in trouble..."

". . ." Fionna sighed, shaking her head. "I'm not." she told him. Them. "She just asked me a question," she continued, and gave a smile, "And I said no. I'm not doing anything for anybody, 'kay?"

She blushed when the invisible hand felt like it was―he was patting her hand?―lightly squeezing her wrist before letting go and apparently disappearing. She glanced at Gumball nervously, but he was only smiling, only looking relieved. How did he look that easy when Marshall Lee had been _behind _the guy? She jumped again when she heard Marshall Lee, close to her ear, "Did you sign anything, Fio?"

She shook her head, and realized he was closer than she thought, feeling her hair catch a little.

"What did you talk about then?" the vampire continued, sounding ticked, and she glared over her shoulder to where she thought he was, still awkwardly dancing with Gumball, "None of your beeswax, dude." she warned him, and Gumball got her to face him again, the Prince looking amused and irritated at the same time.

"As long as you're fine, that's all we're concerned about for now." the Prince told her, then glared over her shoulder, "_Yes_?"

Okay, if Fionna wasn't slightly freaked out by the growl Marshall gave out, she'd think more about how Gumball kept saying 'we'.

". . . Yeah, right. Save another dance for him, blondie." Marshall Lee finally said, sounding like he was laughing, before Fionna felt herself yanked away from Gumball.

"What the stuff, Marshall?" Fionna protested as he floated her up to the ceiling again, watching Gumball watch them, before seeing the Prince shake his head and smile at her before mingling with the other dancers. She was confused. GB would normally react a lot more when Marshall Lee did stuff like this. Maybe it was because they were at a party? What? Did they have to play nice or something? She glared at the vampire as he went back to being visible, "Dangit, why can't you ever just leave stuff alone, you jerk?! I was dancing!" she hissed quietly, as he smirked at her.

"Anything about my mom _is_ my beeswax, bunny wabbit." he replied. Including anything about you, he added to himself. "And I said I was gonna steal you," he continued, then he suddenly looked uncertain, looking at some point below her waist, "Uh, nobody can see up that thing, right?"

Fionna felt her face shut down and color up. He thought to ask that _now_?

"No." she stated flatly, and Marshall Lee swallowed, grinning nervously.

"Alright, then." Then he got a bit more serious, "What's your problem, Fio?"

"That jerkiness seems to run in the family?" she suggested grouchily.

She frowned as Marshall Lee smirked, "Cute. But really, girl," it wasn't a dance so much as him leading her around, different from before, and even when he was smiling she could feel the tension in his hands. What was _with _this guy? "My mom rarely talks to anyone about anything outside of business interests. I believe ya when you said you're not doing anything for her, but gee freaking _whiz _are you stressed..."

"Look who's _talking_." she scoffed, making him blink. She frowned, then nodded to the floor, "C'mon, down. I'll dance."

He blinked again, but did, letting her get on her feet.

Then she surprised him by taking the lead, still with awkward steps, but smoothly enough for the dance, nearly shoving his shoulder, "Woah, hey, hey―..." he protested, but got a glare.

"'Don't let her win', right?" Fionna asked bluntly, "When your mom showed up, you got all strung up. Just chill. I get that she's the Lady of Evil and your mom and someone who I'm not sure if she's cool with me or not, but things are fine, okay? She offered me a deal, and I said no, okay, we were done. What more do you _want_, Marshall?"

He scowled, and the movement switched when he took the lead, moving to the song, a sort of jazzy tune, moving his hand from her waist to near her hip.

"_I wanna know...what she offered you, Fio,_" he growled.

"_What do you have that she wanted to get?_

_What's making you so freaking upset?_

_How're things cool if your heartbeat's all blasted?_

_How can I ignore it if it's clearly broadcasted?_

_I wanna know what's eating at your brain,_

_If it's not me I'm allowed to complain._

_Talk to me, girl, and don't freaking lie,_

_I get you're upset, I just want to know WHY._"

Fionna glared, and then did this funny pivot thing on her leg that she did when fighting in a struggle of hand-to-hand combat, and Marshall was suddenly following her lead again as they went at a slower pace, and he could see she was thinking. She looked at him, looking more thoughtful than mad.

"_It's a personal, private little problem,_" she told him.

"_I know that's kinda lame,_" she shrugged, "_But it's the best that I got._

_I've got some issues, sure, but I don't want you to mind 'em,_

_When I'm through with 'em, I'll be good and define them._

_Just don't you put me up on the spot._"

She pushed at him, and he let her, like she was barely leading him in the stupid dance.

"_Just give me some space,_" she turned with him,

"_And let me save face._

_Marshall Lee,_

_Let me solve stuff for myself, I, and me._"

He rolled his eyes, and took the lead again more gently, and she let him. "Alright, alright, I get it. But thinking's a dangerous pastime." he mentioned warningly.

She had the guts to smile at him, "I know." she replied simply. He sighed, willing to leave it at that.

". . . Sorry." he muttered, and she patted his shoulder.

". . . You're as screwy as the Ice Queen." she commented.

That made him start, and glare, "Say _what_?"

She grinned at him, "Well, you're the one who's been doing all the kidnapping lately, right?"

He stared.

It took him a long time to stop laughing, and by then his guts hurt. That might've been Fionna's revenge, but whatever.

* * *

. . .

* * *

"You're a good dancer, sweetie." the Ice Queen chuckled, as Gumball again led her around the dance floor, clearly unwilling, but determined.

He frowned at her, "What was your business with Fionna?" he asked bluntly.

The Queen pouted, "Putting your work before me? That's rather _cold _of you..."

His eyes narrowed, the dance stiffening as he waited, and she turned her head aside, "_Hmph_. _I _had no business with the piggy." she sniffed.

"You know what I'm talking about, Your Majesty," he clipped, his height barely rivaling hers, yet still managing to stare her down, "I cannot afford any ill-intentioned arrangements to come upon those I care about. Especially during what is meant to be a _celebratory _event..."

She grinned, "I love it when you talk wordy to me..."

He shuddered.

After a few beats she spoke up again, "I'll let you off the hook, honey. The only thing that tomboy's got to worry about is herself. She didn't take the deal."

"'Deal'?" Gumball repeated.

She squealed, "Ooh, no, I said too much!" she giggled.

Gumball raised an eyebrow, thinking, and then got more invested in the dance, "Perhaps," he began carefully, "It would be beneficial for...political _relations _if we _pooled_ the information on our shared interests, Your Highness?" he asked, using a tone that explicitly _didn't_ match the content, carefully keeping his instinctive revulsion in check when a darker blue tinge spread across her face.

"Whuh?" she said, and Gumball smirked to himself. How eloquent.

He laughed, putting on his politician's smile as he took the lead, "You cannot hide it from me, Your Highness," he went on, "We all have our little agendas, our little...indulgences, our fantasies. I've come to reason that the fields of our investments might be overlapping, intersecting, I might even say rather intimately... It is a logical conclusion. You've just been so _quiescent _lately, haven't you, milady?"

Her eyes had become slightly glazed over, and he would swear her hands had warmed up slightly.

". . . I need'a go get a drink." she mumbled, but he didn't let her go, laughing.

"Come now, Your Highness," he persuaded, "We have like-minded interests in the upcoming _intrigue_, do we not? I'd _love _to hear your...observations..."

"It's hot in here," she muttered, staring, "Isn't it hot in here? I think it's hot in here... You're...I..."

He waited with bated breath, patient... Then she snickered.

She flushed, grinning, "Aw, geez, I can't take it. Why can't you ever talk to me like that _outside_ of business?" she chuckled. He was shocked as she patted his shoulder, "Real cute, cutie, real smooth. Piggy's gonna be too lucky for her own good..." She made a locking motion against her lips, winking, "I can't give away the show, sweetheart." she told him. "But as long as we're talking about _interests_... I found my favor." When he paled, she chuckled, "Where's that _vigorous_ vocabulary now, huh? Don't worry, it's nothing _distasteful_. I've just heard you're good in...threads..." She looked over his suit, nodding appreciatively, "I want a wardrobe." she told him. She grinned when he blinked, the Prince nonplussed.

"Your mom was a lovely lady," she commented, almost kindly, "A real slinky sweet psycho. She had class. Her stuff might give you an idea of the necessities to a woman's armoire. You know my complexion, my colors, right? Of course you do. Here's a li'l somethin' to help ya out. It'd make me _so _happy if this was ready in time for my birthday. Marshy will be able to help you with that."

She handed him a slip of paper, and he took it as she ended the dance, she yawning.

"Welp, that was fun. Did all I wanted to do. Ta, now." she decided, smiling as she stretched.

"W-wait, what is this?" he asked, holding it up before she left, gesturing to the numbers surrounded by a heart, all in blue ink.

She looked over her shoulder, leering, the faintest flush to her face, "Just a few of the necessary _measurements_, dearie..."

He frowned, mulling this over in his head. He froze. His jaw dropped.

The Ice Queen then left the Candy Prince dumbstruck on the dance floor.

* * *

. . .

* * *

They danced a dance that was indiscriminate. Fionna would swing paws with her sister, playfully fight for the lead with Marshall, casually step with Gumball while they chatted. (Gumball had looked kind of ick, but he just said something didn't agree with him.) Fionna even tried dancing with Monochro, who looked like he found something funny when she'd try and keep up with his moves. Cherry had even joined in at one point, and Fionna had enjoyed talking to her about battles. But people were yawning, though, people were leaving, and soon it was just the five of them making half-hearted, tired tries at cleaning up the remnants of the party. Fionna looked around after she'd thrown away a giant stack of torn paper chains, and then glanced at Gumball. She'd almost forgot...

* * *

. . .

* * *

"Hey, GB?" Gumball heard Fionna ask, and he smiled at her from the ladder, where he was unpinning one of the banners.

"Yes?" he replied.

She shifted uneasily, indicating one of the doors to the back hallways, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He blinked, and climbed down, following her, "Of course." he replied, curious. Was something wrong?

To his surprise, when they got back there she rounded on him, staring intently at his face. He couldn't help but swallow as she looked him over.

"Are you alright?" he asked uncertainly.

She nodded, frowning.

"What was the gift given to you from the abandoned mineshaft, who gave it to you, and who was it from?" she asked suddenly.

He blinked, "Uh-h..." he thought it over, taken aback, "Um, a rather useful and appreciated specie of fluorescent fungus, given to me by Marshall, from...you?"

Her eyes narrowed as she nodded, but then she surprised him by moving forward, putting her hands to his collar.

"Sorry." she muttered as she began to unbutton his jacket. Gumball's higher brain functions abruptly shut down, as she moved closer to deal with a more uncooperative button, forehead nearly brushing his chin, tongue between her teeth in concentration. He could only watch like a fool, stunned as she finished his jacket, only for her to move her fingers to where his shirt was tucked into his belt, tugging at the fabric to move it up to his chest, and her hands brushed skin along the way and pressed at his solar plexus started sliding down and―his hands grabbed her wrists, not shoving away, but keeping them from moving.

"W-what are you doing, Fionna?" he asked shakily, unnerved and disoriented as she stared at the skin of his abdomen she'd revealed, that she was touching. A faint flush was on her cheekbones, but still that slightly unsettling look of _concentration_ was fixed on her face. "I'm sorry..." she repeated, sounding strangled, "I was...checking..." she explained, her fingertips still grazing the skin that he hadn't removed her touch from. He swallowed, feeling relief as well as disappointment. That's right... The one Ball she'd been to, the Ice Queen had pretended to be...

"It's fine," he assured her, thinking quickly, "It's fine. Here..." Cautiously, he took one of her hands to press it more firmly to the flesh of his stomach, "It's me."

He watched her face flush more deeply, felt the skin of her palm, slightly slick with sweat, catching against his own skin.

"Oh Glob, I'm sorry...!" she squeaked, jerking her hands away like they burned, and he watched her turn around only for her to run into Marshall Lee.

The vampire grinned at them, eyes slightly glowing in the dim light, ". . . I guess the party wasn't really over yet, huh?" he purred, "And you didn't invite _me_..."

"_Ohstuffit'snotwhatitlooksli-i-ike...!"_ Fionna freaked, backing away, and both men watched as she ran away, one thoughtful, the other dazed.

". . . _Now_?" Marshall Lee suggested, pupils blown until the iris was just a thin ring of red in the black sclera, clearly tempted to give chase.

". . . No... But soon..." Gumball promised after a beat or two, tucking his shirt back in, still feeling the phantasmic touch of her hand, still seeing that endearing expression of curiosity and then unconscious _interest _on her face that pleasantly stirred something in his admittedly still-present vanity and stressed something in his normally disciplined patience.

"Quite soon..." he added, feeling as anxious as Marshall Lee looked.

Marshall Lee chuckled to himself, "Poor Fionna..." he said aloud, not sounding the least bit sympathetic.

Gumball glared at his friend, but admitted to a slight pang of guilt that he quickly suppressed for the favor of progress.

* * *

. . .

* * *

Fionna paced, the hem of her dress sometimes catching against weedy things, the shifting of her sword muffled by the fabric, feeling flushed and frustrated.

"Could that have gone any more fan-freaking-tastic?!" she growled, kicking at the ground, getting clumps of dirt caught in her sandals under her feet. She looked down at her dress, at her sandals, blushing, before she rolled her eyes. She kicked off the sandals, placing them at the foot of the tree. She unhooked the shoulder clasps, grunting as she unraveled the fabric from around her, to fold it neatly and put it on top of the sandals, rolling the whole thing up and strapping it to her back by the shoulder belt. It was from the enemy, sure, but Fionna always wanted to appreciate nice things. She was left in simple shorts and a tank top, both white, her sword still hooked at her hip by the belt. She glared at the shininess of the belt, of the white cleanness of these silly underthings, and promptly rolled around on the ground, giggling like a maniac.

Leaves and twigs caught in her hair, dirt smudged and dulled the white cloth and her skin, dulled the belt and its glitter, and she never felt more comfortable. She rolled up, shaking off the excess dirt, and ran, letting her brain drift on memory and stupid thoughts. She remembered...

* * *

. . .

* * *

_"I don't want your labor," Harriet told the human, smiling, "I do not even want your soul. I simply want your...potential..."_

_Fionna frowned, confused, and the demonness actually laughed, "Potential is a very valuable item on the market, but the quality of the product varies **insanely**, making it hard to gain a reliable profit. You happen to have an exceptional quality of potential. All the things you could become, all the things you could do... You've affected the world so much as the thing you already are, imagine what you could do when you are the thing you **will** be. But you don't know how to achieve that, do you? It's such a strange thing, it's such an irritating itch that everyone else has been relieved from but you..." the Lady of Evil tilted her head, smiling gently, "And I can relieve you of that burden, Fionna, before it buries you. I can help you find your change..."_

* * *

. . .

* * *

The nights were quieter lately. It was harder to find things to fight, and any that could just wanted to be left alone. She found other things in her old hideaways, traces of other adventurers. Nothing obvious, but footprints, lovey-dovey initials, notes posted to comrades indicating other hideaways. She even found a note from Cherry to Fionna herself, it was good-natured, it even made her smile, even as she felt something twisting apart inside, feeling like she lost a friend but met their kid.

* * *

. . .

* * *

_"So you want to change me..." Fionna muttered, but the Lady shook her head, "No, no, I want to guide you. I want to simply observe and help direct or aim your progress, I want to give you purpose. Think about it. You're strong, yes? You like to fight? I could help you become a champion, to win battle after battle with the power to level armies and usurp tyrants, to be heralded as a great, unchallengeable warrior. You like to explore? I could show you entire worlds, entire dimensions, untouched and raw, to be accessed by a mere footstep. Places that none of your ancestors could even conceive of with all their Math. You want to be a pure, true hero? I can show you teachings of the highest principles, the strongest disciplines, the weapons of legends, I can show you the souls of masters who would love to instruct you... I can help you become what you want to be, Fionna..."_

_Fionna leaned back on the railing, looking over the Demon Queen. "But there's a catch, isn't there?" Fionna asked, frowning slightly, "There's always one..."_

_The Demon Queen smiled, eyes squinting with it, "Ah, a reader of fine print. I like that. There's only one simple allowance for you to make..."_

* * *

. . .

* * *

She wasn't hurting, she wasn't even feeling particularly bad. The air felt good after all the sweating, it was fun to swing on the tops of trees and fling herself around like on a catapult, but Fionna felt out of place, and that was a very uncomfortable thing to feel. Maybe the boulder that looked like an ogre's head, maybe no one would've found that place yet, or maybe the place behind the twin green waterfalls, no one could've gotten back there, yet, right?

* * *

. . .

* * *

_"I am spending my time and resources to invest in you, am I not? In exchange for your changing, I simply need **your** time..."_

_"My time?"_

_"Yes. Change requires work, doesn't it? It is not for the undetermined. It is to change the insides as well as the out._

To abandon your old skin, to cut the fat, to prioritize and streamline..."

_"You mean, put everything I have into it? Everything of me?"_

_"I said it's not for the undetermined. All I ask is that in exchange for my devotion, that you do the same... And it works, just look at our company..."_

_The Ice Queen waved, winking. Fionna looked uncertain._

_"What about my friends?" she asked, "My home?"_

_"They're components of the old you, factors that might hinder your progress... I'm not above making concessions, however..."_

_". . ."_

_"Really, what would you lose?" the demonness asked, smiling. "Your sister has her beau, doesn't she? Your Prince no longer fears capture, and he has his projects, his army, that my son is also investing in. Heroics have turned to hangouts, rescues to reminiscing... New heros are turning up, more monsters are going down... What does this place have to offer you, when I could help you turn into what you want to be? You don't have to take me up on my offer now but―"_

_"No."_

_For the first time since they started talking, Harriet blinked._

_"I'm sorry?"_

* * *

. . .

* * *

Both places had been found, not as obvious as the others, but she knew she hadn't made those tally marks, and the ashes in the firepit were fresh.

She looked around, and sighed, heading back to Tree Fort.

* * *

. . .

* * *

_"Thank you, but no." Fionna repeated, crossing her arms, "It's a cool offer, really. I mean, talking with the souls of masters sounds awesome. Exploring new places sounds awesome..." The human stared at the demon, "But I don't want to start spending when I don't know what I'm buying."_

_The demonness blinked again, smile returning, "If you're wanting a more defined offer, I'm sure we could discuss―"_

_Fionna shook her head quickly, "No, no, not like that. You're offering me what I want, right? There's the thing, I don't **know**. I don't **know** what I want."_

_"Change is a good start." Harriet suggested, and Fionna shrugged, "It sounds like it, yeah." the girl admitted, "But change isn't somethin' that easy. You wanna put me in a cocoon and, I don't know, farm it or something, put stuff in and see what comes out, yeah?"_

_"What a crude terminology."_

_"But I'm right, right?"_

_". . . How about a trial package instead, before you cut off the prospects completely?"_

_Fionna frowned, trying to think out the lawyer language._

_She thought it over, and then shook her head, "Sorry, but no. If I'm gonna change, it has to be by myself, for myself. If I try to let someone else 'direct' me, that's not really change is it? It's not for the undetermined, right? Then I'm determined that I will change, naturally. It's generous, but I'm gonna have to refuse the offer, ma'am."_

_The Demon Queen stared at her, for a very long time, before smiling, "**Pity**..." she murmured, and for a moment the shadows crowded in, chittering._

_Fionna felt the stone bannister dig into the small of her back, her sword out and ready before she knew it, and suddenly the shadows retreated, and the Lady of Evil got up, her dress still perfectly in place. "Well, I suppose that will settle tonight's meeting. Understood. But the offer for consultation still stands, dear," she told Fionna, "The world's a big, bad place for a nice, little human, especially one who is losing her place in it..."_

_Fionna stared, and then felt angry. She'd show this lady. "Sounds like a good place to start as any." she decided._

_The Ice Queen suddenly spoke up, startling Fionna, "Dangit, I was hoping for a therapy buddy!" the Sorceress whined._

_Fionna stared at one Queen, and then the other, who shrugged, smiling sheepishly, "Part of the relations packet. Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm evil, not impractical." the Lady clipped out, before dissolving back into the Ice Queen's shadow, who shuddered before smirking at Fionna, "The things we do for our friends, right?" she chuckled._

_Fionna glared as the Ice Queen shattered the icy curtains, and they left the balcony, and the Queen 'playfully' shoved her shoulder, "Aw, don't be such a **grouch**, all that was just an observation!" she giggled. The human only snarled, before seeing Gumball coming around the corner, and quickly settled down. She'd be alright...__  
_

* * *

. . .

* * *

Cake looked up as the door opened, getting up in a hurry, fur all frazzled, "There ya are, girl, what freakin' took ya?!"

"Sorry," Fionna chuckled tiredly, nervously yanking a twig from the fabric of her hat, "I went thinking."

The young heroine then promptly collapsed face-first on the couch, while Cake squealed at the state of her clothes, quickly rescuing the nice ones from her back, before finding a blanket and tossing it on her human sister, lovingly scolding the whole time. Cake left Fionna with a final gentle swat to the head, and both sisters went to sleep... Fionna would be alright...

* * *

. . .

* * *

The next day was one contagious headache.

Fionna told Cake, who went and cried to Monochro, who went to confront Gumball, who went to panic with Marshall Lee about the Thing.

The Thing was...that Fionna was planning to leave Aaa.


End file.
